Buried Inside
by Lazarus76
Summary: Go into the mind of a serial killer...you may never come back. Rated M for themes that will be disturbing. Arthur/Ariadne
1. Chapter 1

"So, is this a new case, then?"

Cobb looked up. Arthur, his Point Man, was sifting through papers that he'd just found on the desk.

"I guess so." Cobb spoke carefully. Even though Arthur was one of the most trustworthy men he'd ever met, he knew you could never be sure who was listening. "Came in yesterday."

"Who is it from? A corporate magnate? Crime Boss? Drug overlord?"

"None of the above." Cobb put his pencil down and leaned back in his seat. "Its from a woman in Atlantic City, New Jersey. With no affiliations to a magnate, drugs, or crime."

Arthur's eyebrows went up. "You're not serious?"

"I am. She says she wants us to perform an extraction – but it could be extremely dangerous. But she has also said she'll pay us with everything she owns. I get the impression that she's desperate."

The Point Man sat down, his face a mask of thought. "Why could someone be so desperate they're willing to give us everything they own?"

"I don't know." Cobb looked at Arthur. "But this afternoon we find out. I've made an appointment for us to see her. We catch a flight at 10am."

Arthur looked at his watch. "We better go."

At 4pm, a taxi drew up in front a neat house in an Atlantic City suburb. Arthur was first out of the cab – his overwhelming impression was of trimmed lawns, childrens' toys, and peace. This was the type of community, he surmised, where people actually looked out for one another.

Cobb paid the driver, and walked round to join the Point Man. "Ok, we're looking for 3256 Cedar Street."

Arthur checked the map. "Its just over there."

The two men walked down the street, noting how the sunshine dappled the leaves and threw shadows. As they approached 3526, Arthur felt unaccountably nervous.

Cobb rang the doorbell.

A woman answered. Of average height, she had china white skin and the type of bone structure that musty have made her a beauty in her youth. Light blue eyes swept the two men appraisingly, and her face filled with hope.

Cobb spoke first. "Mrs Caddick?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Dominic Cobb, and this is Arthur Ogilvie. We believe you had some…business to discuss with us?"

Her face lit up.

"Oh yes. Please do come in."

The two men entered. The house was decorated in light pastel colours, with minimal furniture. She led them to the living room.

"Please sit down. Coffee? Water?"

"Coffee would be lovely," Arthur smiled.

"One minute, gentlemen."

A few minutes later, all three were silently sipping coffee. Cobb had decided that the client would steer this meeting, as it was unclear what she wanted or needed. She spoke up.

"I know I may seem a little strange, inviting the two of you out here-"

"Mrs Caddick", Cobb interrupted. "Strange is not – strange to us."

She laughed, nervously.

"We've dealt with some very unusual cases," Arthur explained. "Extraction is not something that many would consider normal."

Mrs Caddick put her cup and saucer on a small table. "But this is strange. And could be very dangerous for you. I'm not even sure I should be involving you in this-" she stopped, and tears sprang to her eyes.

Cobb decided to give her a minute to compose herself. His eyes flicked around the room, taking in the framed photographs on the mantelpiece, the copies of prints on the walls.

"I would like you to find out where my daughter is buried." She choked the words out, her hands twisting a handkerchief.

Arthur put his coffee cup down and moved to her side. He took her arm.

"Mrs Caddick, the Point Man spoke soothingly, "please let us help you. When you say, find out where she's buried, what exactly do you mean?"

The client mopped her face with a handkerchief. She swallowed.

"My daughter was murdered ten years ago. They-" she paused, sobs beginning to choke her words again. "They never found her body. Or at least, they claimed they never did."

Both men fell silent.

"The man they think killed her is inside. Life with no parole. But he won't tell them where she's buried. He claims he didn't do it, he had an accomplice. His accomplice is still at loose."

Arthur shot Cobb a look.

"I want you to-" her tears were starting to overwhelm her again. "I want you to extract from his mind who his accomplice is, and turn them into the police. Then they will find Chandra. And I will have closure."

Cobb closed his eyes. This was an extraction he could never have predicted coming. He looked at the Point Man. He was perfectly composed, but there was a flicker of concern in his dark eyes.

"Mrs. Caddick." Arthur spoke, his tone gentle. "There is an extremely complicated legal procedure to navigate for this. We'd need permission from the prison, a psychiatric assessment, possibly even the State Governor. We could not even get permission-"

She gave him an agonised look, her voice sounded strangled with tears. "So you won't even try?"

"I'm not saying that," Arthur tried to retain his composure. "I'm merely saying that there is an obstacle before we'll even start and-"

"We'll do it." Cobb cut right across him. "Mrs Caddick, we will do our utmost to gain access and to achieve this. What you're asking us to do is not strictly legal, but what he did was against Society. Please trust me. We will be in touch."

The woman mopped her eyes with a handkerchief, and the three of them rose to their feet. She smiled, a smile of deep, heartfelt gratitude.

She showed them to the door. "Thank you. I mean this."

Cobb smiled, graciously. "Thank you for contacting us. Expect to hear from me within a couple of days."

Arthur was silent as they walked back to the car. Cobb knew that he was waiting to explode, so decided to let him. As soon as they were both seated, the Point Man turned to the Extractor.

"I can't believe you've agreed to this. This is- this is-"

"Dangerous, illegal, potentially mind screwing." Cobb put the key in the ignition. "I hear you. But, Arthur, she's desperate. And I couldn't but think, what if-"

"It was one of mine?"

"Damn right." Cobb turned the key. The Pontiac hummed gently and started to purr.

"When we get back, contact Ariadne. We need her to be our architect. And get hold of Eames."

Arthur swallowed. "Ariadne is in Paris, Eames is in London. It could be too dangerous for Ariadne, and as for Eames – why do you want him on board again?"

"Because we need an inside man. And a Forger."

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

Cobb smiled wryly. "Come on, Arthur. You never thought Eames has seen the inside of a jail?"

Arthur laughed, and the tension in the car began to dissolve. "Frequently. I'm just…worried about taking Ariadne on board. This is-"

"Going into new territory. But, its somebody's daughter. And whether you're on board or not, I'm in."

Arthur looked at the Extractor. "Cobb, I'm in. Lets get back and get started."

Cobb began to manoeuvre the car into the street. "Thank you Arthur. I mean that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur sighed with frustration, and pulled his glasses off. Sitting in front of the lap top was beginning to give him a headache, and pinwheels of colour were starting to dance in front of his eyes.

Pushing his chair back from the desk, he went into the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, he reached for a box of peppermint tea, and dropped a bag into a cup. Filling it was water, he put it in the microwave to heat. Whilst the tea was brewing, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, turning it over in his hand.

He had spent the last three hours trawling material on Chandra Caddick. An attractive young woman, he'd noticed, with an intense, slightly bookish air. She reminded him of a girl he'd known at High School, who he had wanted to ask to the Prom. They'd been in the same classes for History, English, and French. She'd been asked by the star football player, and he'd spent an evening hanging on the sidelines, punch glass in hand, watching her. They'd gone to different universities – he to Yale, her to Northeastern – but he'd never quite forgotten her. He smiled wryly. She was probably married by now, to a College football player, living the perfect cookie-cutter lifestyle in some cookie-cutter Boston suburb. Whilst he operated in the shadows, helping Cobb do something illegal and potentially on the verge of dangerous, sacrificing his personal life for seemingly no reward.

His mind flicked back through the files he'd read that evening. The details of Chandra Caddick's death were shocking. The killer had allegedly stripped her, sexually assaulted her, and then strangled her. His accomplice had disposed of the body, and then disappeared. Arthur burned with anger. The thought anyone could do that to a young woman – for a reason so obscure that even the attacker probably didn't realise what it was – made his gall rise.

She'd been 25. A graduate of Columbia, joint honours, English Literature and History. She'd talked of doing a PhD, but instead had decided to spend time temping, followed by travelling. She'd returned from the Backpackers' trail, ready to take up a PhD place at Bennington College. But she never had. She'd been killed first. Killed brutally, and dumped without trace. Like garbage in a trash can.

Arthur rubbed his forehead. She had been 25. Ariadne was nearly 24. Despite what Cobb felt – and she was the best Architect they'd ever worked with – The Point Man didn't feel she should be exposed to this. This was real psychopathia, real insanity. The urge and desire to take a human life, and crush it, without caring if bones broke or if flesh was torn.

The microwave pinged, causing Arthur to jump. Opening the door, he allowed the bag to sit in the cup for a couple of minutes, before removing it and dropping it into the trash. He picked up the steaming herbal brew, and headed to the desk, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

There was one person who could be exposed. Who had a strong enough sense of self – and robustness – to withstand it. Arthur checked his watch. It was 11pm, which meant in London it would be 5am. A little early, but as this was Eames, not out of the question. Eames probably wasn't even in bed, Arthur thought wryly. He was probably in a club, in a poker game, in a strip joint, or in a woman. If it was the last, he'd take the call and provide Arthur with a real life porn show as well.

He flipped open the sleek black phone, and scrolled through contacts. Found "Eames", and dialled.

The ring tone started, tinny and hollow. After ten rings, Arthur was about to give up, when a sleep dulled voice suddenly spoke. "H'lo?"

"Eames?"

"Yeah. Who…?"

"Its Arthur. Arthur, I'm sure you-"

"Artie!" The voice sounded more alive. "Artie, how good to hear from you! How are you? Still got that stick positioned up your-"

"Cut it out Eames." Arthur had to hand it to him – within the space of ten seconds he'd managed to cause annoyance. "I have a proposal for you."

"Never knew you cared, darling. Does your mother know?"

"Eames!" Arthur felt himself go red. "Stop it! A business proposal, you know, the things we ask you to get involved in-"

"-And risk my life for, yes I know. What is it? Another corporate break up? More inception?"

"No." Arthur tried to control his voice. "We've been asked to do an extraction. It could be extremely dangerous, but Cobb and I need you on board."

Eames' voice sounded more focused. "What is it?"

"Its – to find out where a serial killer buried one of his victims."

The line went silent. Too silent. Arthur tapped the phone with a finger. "Hello?"

"Yes, I'm still here." Eames voice sounded slightly edgy. "Its just – I thought you said finding out where a serial killer has buried his victim. Funny joke, Arthur. Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a bed to get back into."

"I don't", Arthur spoke tersely, "ring people at 5am London time and make jokes. I'm serious. A woman in New Jersey wants us to extract from a serial killer where his accomplice is. His accomplice was the one who disposed of the body. She was never found. Her mother wants us to do this so she can find her. Bury her. Give her the funeral that she deserves."

Eames was silent again. "They never found her?"

"No."

"Bastards-" Eames voice was soft. "A young woman – how did she die, Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "According to the statements, she was strangled. Before that, she was raped. Repeatedly. Stripped naked. They think she may have been beaten as well."

"How old?"

"25."

Eames made a choking noise. Arthur decided to continue talking. "Cobb wants us to do this – I expected him to, he's a father. But, Eames, if you think this is too much for you, you don't-"

"Don't patronise me, you prick." Eames voice was sounding stronger. "I'm not a father, but I have a sister I adore, and a niece. She's 11. It could be her, one day. It could be any of the women we've ever cared about. I know you have a sister as well, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I guess I'd better get myself booked on a flight, then."

Arthur stood up. "You're in?"

"Yes. Would it be wrong of me to assume you want me to go inside the prison as a plant for the killer?"

Arthur swallowed. "Um, no, you're not wrong."

"Excellent. I always wanted to try on one of the lovely orange jumpsuits that are prison chic. They are so much more tasteful than the stuff you wear here, not that I ever have of course…"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Eames' past was a mystery to him, and he'd never felt the need to unearth it. "We'll make sure you have one, Eames."

"Fabulous." The Forger sounded wide awake. "And if you could bake a cake with a file in, much appreciated Artie. I'll see you in a few."

Eames hung up. Arthur leaned back in his seat, aware that a rising tide of emotions were gnawing at his guts, and for once, he didn't try and quell them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"So, how was the flight?" Arthur was driving back to his apartment, Eames slumped in the front seat of the car. The Forger was slightly rumpled from an eight hour flight, and had been dozing when Arthur's question woke him.

"Long." He yawned. "Boring." He rubbed his forehead. "I even missed talking to you."

Arthur glared. "Do you want to stay at my place or sleep on the street?"

"You know I'm joking, darling. You know I enjoy your company. I'll even buy you dinner, if you like."

"I'm not going to say no." Arthur turned down a street. "We'll get take out – there are things I want to discuss about the case, and I don't want anyone overhearing us."

"Sounds good." Eames yawned again. "Christ, I'm sorry Arthur. You're not boring me. Honestly."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and kept driving.

Cobb tapped the laptop with a pencil. He knew he had to call her and ask her. But he remembered Arthur's hesitation. Was exposing Ariadne to this really a good idea?

The Extractor swallowed. He knew that the team could hold themselves together, and get through this. But a young woman – what if she proved irriisistable to the psychopathic tendencies of the subject?

He exhaled slowly, and picked up his cellphone.

Eames chewed on a forkful of sweet and sour pork. "Mmm, this is good. Better than the takeaway you get at home." He took a swallow of beer. "OK, so the case. When do I get to meet Dr. Lecter?"

Arthur sighed. "Eames. This is not Seven. Its not Silence of the Lambs. Its real. This is not a witty, cultured psychiatrist you're going to meet."

"Oh, shame." Eames yawned. "We could have exchanged recipes, I do like to cook. So whats he like?"

Arthur rifled through his notes. "You're assuming the killer is male?"

"Yep." Eames took another forkful of rice. "Majority of serial killers are. Generally intelligent, with education and social skills."

"And you're right in this case." Arthur produced the file. "The killer is one Michael Jensen. Educated to college level, nearly finished a degree in Biochemistry. Dropped out to pursue a job in a pharmaceutical company. Lived alone. No girlfriend. Rumours of possible bisexuality."

"Age?"

"31."

"How did he meet the victim?"

Arthur looked at a page. "She was temping at the company he worked at. He was in the lab, she was one of the administrators. They got friendly. He asked her out, they went on a couple of dates. Its not clear if they had intercourse before he attacked her."

Eames swallowed. "Arthur, don't be so clinical. Its called sex. Everyone does it." He then curled his lip and looked at the Point Man. "Well, nearly everyone."

Arthur glared. "Shall I call you a hotel?"

"No, I'm sorry. Please continue. So he knew her through work?"

"Yes. Apparently, she thought he was a nice guy."

"Aren't they all, the ones who explode into violence?"

"Eames, stop it."

"No, I'm serious. Ted Bundy was perfectly charming with the ladies. Jeffrey Dahmer had no problem scoring dates. The nice guy – quiet, and deadly." He pulled a cigarette out of the packet. "Frankly Arthur, you should be the plant."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "Shall we continue with the facts of the case? Do you want to know if he had a psych evaluation?"

Eames was silent. "Was he diagnosed?"

"Jensen claimed schizophrenia. That he heard voices telling him to kill Chandra Caddick. That she was evil, the devil."

The Forger raised his eyebrows. "How original. And no doubt, utter crap."

Arthur nodded. "You are correct, Eames. He was given a battery of psychiatric tests. All claimed that Jensen was sane and completely aware of what he was doing. Especially when DNA testing linked him to the rape of a young woman four years previously. He beat her so badly the paramedics originally thought she was dead."

Eames' face darkened. "Please continue. I've changed my mind about planting you. I cannot wait to meet this charming fellow."

"This is really getting to you, isn't it?"

"Arthur. I can be a bastard. I admit it. But I would never, ever, force a woman into sex. Or hit her. And men who do, make me sick."

Eames put the cigarette in his mouth. "Do you mind?"

Arthur shrugged. "You're going to anyway."

Eames flicked his lighter. "So, where is he?"

"He's in Attica Correctional Facility. Out of respect to the Caddicks, he's not in New Jersey."

Eames whistled. "Attica? Christ, that's had some roll call."

Arthur nodded. "Yep. Kendall Francois is still being held there. David Berkowitz was for a while."

Eames exhaled smoke. "So I'm going into Attica? What have I done?"

Arthur smiled wryly. "What would you like us to claim you've done?"

"Bank robbery. In which I threatened to shoot several people."

Arthur shook his head. "Fantastic, Eames. You'll be considered the new Willie Sutton."

Eames leaned back. "Perfect. And you're going to be my lawyer."

Cobb tapped his fingers impatiently. Finally, a connection. "Hello?"

"Ariadne? Its Cobb. Dom Cobb."

"Hi!" She sounded bemused. "What can I do for you?"

Cobb swallowed. "I need you to do some designs for us. We have a new case."

"Oh, cool!" She sounded so young, so innocent, that Cobb hated himself. "What sort of case?"

"Well, its to find a young woman."

"Oh." Silence. "Oh, that's really sad. Of course I'll help. I can fly out tomorrow."

Cobb took a deep breath. "Ariadne, there is something I need to tell you. This is dealing with-"

"No, don't worry, you can tell me in person. See you soon!" The phone clicked.

Arthur checked his watch. It was after midnight, but he didn't feel tired. He got up, and spoke to the Forger. "Tea?"

"Lovely, thank you." Eames picked up the file. "When do you want me to go in?"

"As soon as possible." Arthur rattled the kettle. "As soon as you go in, we can start thinking about how we're going to get inside the killer's dream to extract this information. We need to find out about his weaknesses, about his family."

Eames frowned. "This is going to be a very, very dangerous extraction. He's been diagnosed as sane…but how do we know that he is?"

"What?"

"What if it's a game of bluff double bluff? I claim I'm insane, you don't believe me – so instead of putting me in maximum security psych ward, you put me in a facility where I can mix and mingle."

Arthur slammed the kettle down and walked into the living room. "So, you're saying he could be insane?"

"Most killers are. What would drive someone to take a young woman out, rape her, and murder her, and then get someone to dump the body? I mean, have you treated any of your girlfriends that way?"

"No."

"There we are. We're going into the mind of a psychotic, Arthur. Someone who really does believe he's justified in taking human life." He looked at Arthur. "Is Cobb bringing Ariadne into this?"

Arthur swallowed. "I believe so."

"Tell him no." Eames' voice was sharp. "We cannot allow her to be exposed to this, Arthur."

Arthur's cellphone rang. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"Its Cobb. Ariadne's in. I'll see you tomorrow."

Arthur snapped the phone shut, colour draining from his face. "Ariadne's in."

"Of course she is." Eames met Arthur's eyes. "Because he hasn't told her the truth."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

Arthur smiled politely as he approached the desk. The young warden behind it was shielded by at least five inches of plexiglass. He looked up, and frowned.

"May I help you?"

"I hope so." Arthur fished in his pocket for his id. "My name is Arthur Ogilvie. I have an appointment with Dr. Roberts. We confirmed it on the phone, yesterday."

"One moment." The guard pressed a few buttons on the intercom system, and picked up the receiver.

"Yes, ok. Thank you. I'll tell him." The warden turned to Arthur.

"Dr. Roberts is on her way. Before I let you go in, please remove your keys, wallet, anything you have that could constitute a weapon."

Arthur raised his eyebrows as he sifted through his pockets. "OK." He pulled the items out, and deposited them on the tray presented to him. The Warden nodded, pulled them through the hatch, and placed them under the desk.

"OK. I'll buzz you in." Arthur took a step forward as the heavy door was released.

As he walked through it, a chill struck him. The unit was uniformly white, with a sterile feel. There was a sense that those inside were locked away, being forced to hide from the rest of humanity. A slight feeling of injustice gripped him, but then he reminded himself what they were locked away for, and it started to dissipate.

"Mr Arthur Ogilvie?"

Arthur turned. A woman was standing to the side of him. Dark haired and eyed, she had an intense, intelligent face. Of average height and build, she was dressed in a black trouser suit, and her name badge was pinned to the lapel – Dr. F. Roberts.

She offered her hand. "Good to meet you. How may I help you?"

Arthur swallowed. "I need some information on a former patient of yours, Doctor. I believe he was kept here for a year before being tried. You carried out the psychiatric assessments."

She raised her eyebrows. "Mr. Ogilvie. I've carried out literally dozens of assessments. Can you be more specific, please?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "Its on Michael Jensen."

She took a sharp breath. "I see. Shall we go to my office?"

* * *

Cobb took a deep breath. "Look Eames, I know you're angry-"

"No, I'm not angry." The Forger took a sip of coffee. "I'm fucking furious. I can't believe that you're letting Ariadne do this job, without telling her what it is. This isn't going into the mind of some handsome young magnate. This is going into the mind of a deranged psychotic. This could permanently damage us all. And anyway, there's no guarantee that bastard will even give us the correct information! He'll probably lie through his teeth!"

"Its still somebody's daughter, Eames." Cobb looked at the Forger. "Still somebody's little girl." His hand was shaking and he put down the coffee cup. "Come on Eames, I thought you were with me on this one. A young woman ends up slaughtered, buried somewhere like the family dog, no-one can identify the body, no-one can even give her a proper burial. If it was your daughter, you'd want to give her some dignity. I know I would if it was mine." He stopped. Tears were starting to form in his eyes.

Eames swallowed. "I know you're right, Dom. I know you're right. But, I just can't-" he broke off. "This just feels too dangerous. And you want me to be inside man for a bit." He shrugged. "I'll do it. But…" his voice trailed off.

"But what?"

Eames pulled a cigarette out of a packet. "This is the last job I ever do for you. OK?"

* * *

Roberts' office was small and cluttered. Various medical journals were stacked up next to books. A kettle and small fridge were on a table.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please. Black."

"Of course." She flicked the switch on the kettle, then settled into the swivel chair behind her desk. "So. Michael Jensen. Why are you asking?"

Arthur swallowed. "I need some information for an article I'm writing. I'm a journalist for _Mental Health. _I thought that if I interviewed you, you could give me some insight into what can turn a seemingly ordinary joe into a killer."

She leaned forward, smiling slightly. "You are so wrong, Mr Ogilvie."

"Excuse me?"

"Michael Jensen is no ordinary joe. When you say that phrase, you tend to think of someone who is of average intelligence, possibly slightly below, works a job, has a girlfriend or wife, and likes to watch sport. Yes?"

Arthur looked at her. "I…guess so."

"Well, Michael Jensen fits none of the above. He is extremely intelligent. Basic IQ tests peg him at around 155. He was the valedictorian of his High School. He nearly completed his degree in Biochemistry, but he was thrown out for violent behaviour. Sexually, he likes both women and men." She looked at Arthur and smiled. "And Mr Ogilvie, I think you're his type."

Arthur blushed. "What drove him to kill Chandra Caddick?"

She shrugged. "What do you think drove him to kill her, Mr Ogilvie?"

Arthur swallowed. "Well, his defence claimed Schizophrenia, but it was overturned."

Roberts got up and moved to the table where the kettle had boiled. She spooned instant coffee into two mugs, and then poured hot water on them. "Yep. I was the one who conducted the psychiatric assessments and crushed that. Jensen is not schizophrenic. He did think his victim was evil, but not in the sense of demonic possession. He doesn't hear voices. He doesn't have a split personality. Schizophrenia is a much maligned illness, Mr Ogilvie. It is also the most overused defence by serial killers."

Arthur gratefully accepted the mug of steaming coffee. "So how was she evil?"

Roberts settled back behind her desk. "Have you ever heard of a condition called Borderline Personality Disorder?"

"No."

She nodded. "I see. BPD is a condition where someone lacks empathy. They lack comprehension of why people react and how. They also tend to idolise those they love, or think they love. They put them on a pedestal. And when said object disappoints them, they destroy them. What Jensen did was an extreme realisation of that. Chandra Caddick didn't like him in the way he hoped. So he killed her."

Arthur shivered.

"There are many types of serial killers, Mr Ogilvie, but generally there are three broad types of motivation. Some kill because they are acting out past abuse. Some kill because they are products of a fucked up society. But Jensen killed because he wanted to. And he justified it because she wouldn't fuck him."

The Point Man swallowed. "Thank you, Doctor. You've been extremely helpful. My editor will be thrilled with the material I've got."

"No, they won't."

Arthur turned. "Excuse me?"

"You're not a journalist, Mr Ogilvie." She stated flatly. "If you did work for a publication on mental health, I would like to think you had at least some passing acquaintance with BPD. Who are you really working for? FBI? Forensics? Did you really think your doe eyes and shy smile would make up for your chronic lack of personal warmth?"

Arthur bristled. "How did you figure me out?"

She smirked. "I'm a psychiatrist, Mr Ogilvie. And your body language has been on edge all afternoon. Maybe you are a pushy, nosy reporter. But I don't think so. "

Arthur looked at her. "OK, I'm not a journalist. I work for a private investigation firm. The mother of Chandra Caddick wants us to locate the accomplice of Michael Jensen. Locate him, and find her body."

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "If you can achieve this, Mr Ogilvie, you'll be doing something that I, and the police, failed to do."

"Whats that?"

"Bring him to justice. Give that young woman a proper funeral. Because that accomplice is possibly in contact with Jensen. Whats to say he's not going to be urged to kill? Find him, Mr Ogilvie. And quickly."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"So, what was she like?"

Arthur looked up, irritably. "Who?"

"The psychiatrist."

"She was very informative."

Eames sighed. "Only you could describe a woman as informative, Arthur. I was thinking more of, is she attractive, is she single, and could you arrange for me to meet her if she ticks of the above?"

Arthur glared at him. "Eames, this wasn't a date. It was a business meeting. I needed to find information, and she gave it to me. But, yes, she ticked the first box. As for the second, I didn't ask. As for the third, are you proposing to take her for dinner or her use you for her next case study?"

Eames fished for his cigarettes. "Fair enough. What did she have to say about our mark?"

Arthur loosened his tie, and took a breath. "That he's suffering from BDP. Not schizophrenia, as was originally diagnosed. That he is dangerous, and also bisexual."

Eames whistled. "Interesting character, then."

"Oh yes."

Eames leaned back in his chair, and looked at Arthur. "Bisexual, you say?"

"Yes." The Point Man was beginning to feel aggravated – he didn't want to have to talk to the Forger. He wanted a shower so he could wash away the day and put his meeting with Roberts behind him. "Your point is?"

"That maybe Chandra isn't the only victim. Maybe he also targeted men."

"Why haven't they come forward?"

"Not all gay victims of crime do. Not all relatives of gay victims of crime do. Not all gay victims of crime ever come out to their relatives. And if you're from a conservative home, and your son's sexuality is a source of shame, you're not going to draw the connection if they mysteriously go missing."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. The case was beginning to take on ever larger proportions. "What are you suggesting?"

Eames looked at him. "That one of us, or both of us, go to the local gay haunts and see if anyone there knew Michael Jensen. An ex-boyfriend, an ex-fling...maybe even a potential victim."

Arthur swallowed. "Eames...I'm not sure, I could-"

"Get picked up, I know." The Forger finished. "Which is why I propose I go with you, and we pose as a couple."

The Point Man choked. "You're not serious."

"I'm deadly serious. What you found out today indicates that its may not just be the Caddicks we could be helping. There could be others, who won't come forward for the reasons I've mentioned."

"But Eames – posing, as a couple, with you-"

Eames winked. "Trust me, I'll protect you."

Cobb poured boiling water into two cups. He'd offered Ariadne a place to stay, as he knew that Arthur was already playing host to Eames. As he stirred the mugs, his jaw tightened, reminding himself that he needed to be honest with the Architect about this case.

She smiled as he offered her one of the cups. "Thank you."

"Ari." Cobb sat opposite her. "You know I said this job could be dangerous?"

"Yes." She took a sip of coffee. "But the Fischer job was dangerous, and we survived that pretty well."

Cobb struggled to find the words. "This job is a lot more dangerous than Fischer. We're dealing with something that we've never encountered before."

She looked at him, quizzically. "How do you mean?"

"Well, we're dealing with a serial killer."

Ariadne's face paled. "A serial killer? Is he the mark?"

Cobb hated himself. "Yes," he said simply.

"Cobb, I can't do this." She put her cup down, and got up. Cobb rose as well.

"Ari, please don't leave. We could arrange it so only myself, Arthur and Eames go in on this one, we don't want to putyou at risk-"

"But they're my designs, Cobb!" Her voice was becoming higher, and her jaw was tightening. "You know that I'm the only one who can show you guys through them! If you want my designs, I have to go into it as well! How could you do this, Dom? I trusted you!"

With that, she turned, and started to walk to the door. "Ariadne, please-"

She opened the door, and slammed it.

Cobb ran a hand over his face. This case was looking to be over already.

"So, we go to a gay club, and we pose as a couple. What do you think that will achieve?"

Eames shrugged. "It could find us nothing, it could be the key to the entire case, who knows? But think about this – what if Jensen had a victim, who he let survive, who agreed to do anything for him?"

Arthur stared at Eames in disbelief. "You've been watching too many movies. As I said before, this isn't-"

"I know, you said." The Forger looked irritable. "But, think about it. There is a condition – Stockholm Syndrome – where a prisoner falls in love with their captor. What if that has happened?"

"So, you think this could be a way to find the accomplice?"

"Possibly."

"But if we find the accomplice-" Arthur's mind was racing – "all we have to do is go into his mind, and not Jensen's. That would be safer, wouldn't it?"

Eames smiled at him. "Yes, it would."

Arthur got up. "I need to call Cobb-"

At that second, the phone rang. Eames raised his eyebrows, Arthur grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"

"Art? Its Cobb. Is Ariadne there?"

"No...she's with you, isn't she?"

Cobb sounded distraught. "No, she isn't. She walked out."

Arthur's jaw sagged slightly. "What? What happened?"

"I told her what we needed her to do – she panicked, and left."

Arthur ground his teeth. "I did warn you-"

"I'm not going to listen to any of your sermons!" Cobb's voice sounded hurt and angry. "I know I should have been honest with her, so I was!"

Arthur swallowed. "Any idea where she might have gone?"

"None." Cobb's voice broke.

"Do you want me to try and find her?"

"Arthur. She could be anywhere."

Suddenly a loud banging came from the front door. Eames got up, and walked towards it.

Arthur turned. Ariadne had been ushered in by Eames, tear stained and looking distraught. Eames gently directed her to a seat, and went into the kitchen.

"Dom?"

"Yes? She's here."

"Thank God." The Extractor sounded relieved. "Keep her there, I'll come over and-"

"Oh, no." Arthur said quickly. "I'll deal with this. Go to bed, Dom. Its after midnight."

Cobb hung up. Arthur turned. The Architect looked at him with an expression of mistrust.

"Did you know about this, Arthur?"

"Yes." Arthur spoke honestly. "I knew. I told Cobb to tell you, but-"

"You didn't try very hard!"

Arthur bit his lip. She was right – he hadn't. Despite his concern for Ariadne, neither he nor Eames had forcibly tried to persuade the Extractor. He wished he had.

"Ari, you won't be in any danger." He spoke gently. "All you need to do is design the layers, and then we'll take over."

"But how will you navigate without me?" She looked at him. "I'm going to have to design something really complex. This is a killer, he could have anything in his head!"

"Ari." Arthur looked at her. "Please, just trust me. We'll be ok, we'll be careful and-"

"But how do you know?" Tears were beginning to streak her face. "How do you know? You were responsible for the Fischer job, and look what happened there!"

Arthur flushed. "Thanks. I know I let you all down on the one – you don't need to rub it in. We are going to be very careful about this because of the risks. But its your call, Ariadne, entirely."

She looked at him. "If I say yes, will you protect me?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "Of course."

She smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. I knew I could rely on you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Are you ready? Or do you intend to spend all night in there?"

"Hang on!" A grumpy voice shouted.

Eames consulted the map he'd printed off as the door on the bathroom unlatched and opened. Arthur stepped out, clad in a pair of tight black jeans and form fitting light green top. His hair was slightly mussed, and his expression was uncertain.

"Well, you'll be fighting them off with a stick, Artie!"

Arthur sighed. "Thanks. Just remember, we may be posing as a couple, but unless its absolutely necessary, please keep your hands to yourself."

"Oh, don't worry," Eames said jovially. "Trust me, despite being very pretty, you're devoid of the two assets I tend to go for first – breasts and a sizeable arse." He leaned down and patted Arthur's backside for emphasis.

Arthur scowled. "And regrettably, you're devoid of the two assets I most like – personal hygiene and fresh breath."

The Forger sighed. "Spoilsport. Ok, lets go. Quicker we get this done, quicker we can report back. After you."

Arthur reached for his black leather jacket, pulled it on, and zipped it up. "I still don't know why I agreed to this. Chances are, Jensen didn't have any gay victims. Chances are, this will be a waste of time. Chances are-"

"-You'll keep on moaning in the club until I finally kiss you to make you shut up." Eames raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"You do that, and you die. I mean it."

"Oh, come on. It'll increase the cover."

Arthur glared at him. "Lets just get this over with."

* * *

Cobb looked at the Architect. She was still refusing to meet his eyes, but she had come back to his apartment. Curled up in a chair, sipping tea, a sheaf of blueprints was on the table in front of them.

"So these designs of yours-"

"Have got to be complex." She interrupted. "They have to enable us to conceal ourselves. We're going into a subconscious that will attack us."

"We don't know that," Cobb spoke gently. "He is a killer, but remember, it is a dream."

"But we could have died on the Fischer job!" Ariadne looked straight at the Extractor. "We were in the first level for a week! How long do you think we need to stay in this one?"

Cobb swallowed. "My guess is, the same length of time. He's not going to give this up easily."

She swallowed. "I'm in, Cobb. But, I want you to know, that I don't want to do –"

"Another job for me again." Cobb sighed wearily. "Eames and I have had this conversation as well. I know I'm asking a lot of all of you. I know its incredibly dangerous, and I know there is no guarantee we'll succeed. But, I also know that I couldn't refuse her. She needs to know where her daughter is. I'm sorry, Ari, I really am."

The Architect nodded. "I know Cobb. I know."

* * *

As Eames and Arthur approached the club, the Point Man's nerves increased. He moved closer to Eames.

"That's the spirit." The Forger looped an arm around Arthur's waist, and drew him close. "Perfect, Artie."

"Watch where your hands go!"

"I am. Hence why they're going straight onto your-"

"Eames!"

"Shh!"

As they got to the door, the bouncer looked at them. "Two of you?"

"Yes." Eames spoke.

"OK. You go in, and pay downstairs." He jerked his thumb towards the stairwell behind him. Both men turned and walked down the stairs. Arthur shivered as a blast of cold air hit his back.

"Stay close," Eames whispered. Reaching a double door, they pushed it and went in.

Arthur blinked. The atmosphere was hot, and smoky, and made his eyes water. Young men were clustered around the bar, talking and laughing. Several were gyrating on the dance floor. The music was loud, but not uncomfortably so, and the Point Man realised Eames was tugging him in the direction of the bar.

The bartender looked up. "Yeah?"

"Two Scotches please, on the rocks. Ice." The Forger handed over a twenty dollar bill, and received little change. After a few minutes, the two glasses of amber liquid were unceremoniously dumped in front of them. Eames pushed one towards the Point Man. "Dutch courage. Down the hatch."

Arthur picked it up, and took a sip. The warmth of the liquor hit his stomach, and he felt himself relaxing. He stood against the bar, and scanned it. Most of the men there seemed to be in couples, or small groups – no-one was there on his own. A wave of irritation began to hit him. This was a complete waste of time. Anyone who had been a near victim of a killer most likely wouldn't be out socialising. He picked up the glass, and took another swallow.

"You alone?"

The Point Man froze. A blonde man was standing close to him. He started to put the glass down, and turned to face him.

"Whats it to you?" The words came out more sharply than he'd intended, but the man continued to smile.

"Well, it makes the difference as to whether you'll be coming home with me or not." Arthur scrutinised his admirer. He estimated that he was in his late twenties, with a firm, muscular looking build. He was dressed in a plain black shirt, and black jeans, and was looking at Arthur, admiringly.

"Well, my boyfriend's over there-" the Point Man went slightly red as he uttered the words.

The man shrugged. "Boyfriend? Is it serious?"

"Oh no. We've been together a couple of months."

"So…you don't live together, or anything?"

"No." Arthur was beginning to wonder where this would lead. He picked up the Scotch, and took another swallow.

"Listen, I know this might seem creepy," the guy laughed, "but a good looking guy like you shouldn't be left on his own. I mean, anything could happen to you."

Suddenly Arthur felt a jolt. Was that an implied threat?

"Aaron!" Eames' voice broke into his thoughts. "There you are! I thought you'd wandered off!" Walking up to the Point Man, he placed a kiss on his cheek. Arthur tried not to wince.

The blonde looked taken aback, as Eames' frame towered over him. "This guy – this guy – is your-"

"Lover, shagbuddy, fuckbunny, whatever you want to call me, I'm it for this gorgeous creature, and its getting past his bedtime." He leaned over, and kissed Arthur again.

"Well," the blonde tried to speak lightly. "I didn't realise you were into gorillas. I'll guess I'll see you around!" He hastily put his glass on the bar, and left.

"Thanks." Arthur whispered.

"Don't mention it. Hit me for kissing you later, darling. Come on, lets get out of here."

* * *

Cobb was bent over his desk, examining the first draft Ariadne had given him. It was impressive – a finely layered design, with enough places for them to hide in.

He reached for the coffee on the desk, and took a swallow. A wave of guilt was starting to spread within him. He knew that he had misled Ariadne, and also put Eames and Arthur in danger. He regretted that he was alienating his team.

But he couldn't stop the image of Chandra Caddick's mother's face appearing in front of him. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw the tears shining in her eyes, heard the gentle pleading of her voice. Begging him to find her. Chandra. Her child.

Cobb closed his eyes. Part of him didn't care what the team thought. A man had admitted to leaving a young woman dead, violating and assaulting her. She'd done nothing to deserve it, except act in a way that a sick, twisted mind could take offence at. Cobb knew he had to find out where she was. She deserved a burial. Her mother deserved closure.

* * *

"You ok?"

Arthur nodded, gulping down the water Eames had handed him. His head was starting to pound – a side effect of the nerves and the atmosphere of the club. He took another swallow of water.

"I'll be ok." He looked at the Forger. "Thanks."

Eames shrugged. "I said I'd protect you. Christ, Arthur, we go to a gay club, and someone hits on you in five minutes. It was so obvious he wanted to get you on your own."

"He said-" Arthur paused, trying to remember the exact words. "He said something."

"What?"

"He said, I shouldn't be on my own. Anything could happen to me."

Eames raised his eyebrows. "Turn of phrase, Artie."

"What if it wasn't? What if it was a threat? Anything could happen?"

The Forger's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

Arthur swallowed. "What if – what if we've got it wrong? What if the man sitting in jail is not Michael Jensen? What if it's the accomplice?"

Eames jaw dropped. "You're not serious?"

"I am. Roberts said that Jensen is highly intelligent. If he's that clever, would he let them catch him? No, he's still out there. The Jensen inside is the accomplice, no doubt drilled by the real one to tell Roberts what he wants her to hear. What if the real one is still out there? Looking for victims, in clubs…" his voice trailed off.

"You'd have held your own." Eames spoke gently.

"Eames. We have to get hold of Cobb." Arthur looked at the Forger. "I don't think we're going into a dream to just find a woman's body. We're going in to find out who actually killed her."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"You did _what?"_

Arthur swallowed and then exhaled. Cobb was glaring at him, and his jaw was tightening.

"I told you." Arthur tried to keep his tone neutral. "Eames and I went undercover to a gay club, to see if we could find any other potential victims from Jensen-"

"Oh, so that's what you did recently, is it? No, Arthur, I'm asking you to tell me what you did before!"

The Point Man looked at the Extractor. "I went to see the psychiatrist who did the assessments. She told me that Jensen was a bisexual. I thought it's a possibility he could have had victims who were men. So, we decided to do an undercover-"

"What the hell is happening to my team?" Cobb was white with anger. "I've got Eames threatening to quit, Ariadne on the verge of backing out, and you going it alone! Why didn't you tell me you were seeing his shrink? Why are you leaving me out of the loop? I thought I could trust you, Arthur!"

"You can trust me!" Arthur shouted back, his own temper beginning to rise. "You can trust me to find out everything that's needed about a case, and that's exactly what I was doing! I didn't realise I needed your permission to start building my profile! Just in case you'd forgotten, what we're planning on doing is illegal! Do you think the police would help us? His shrink was the best lead!"

"I hear you, Arthur. But I can't trust you!" The Extractor slammed his fist down on the desk. "What you and Eames did was crazy! What if you had run into one of Jensen's victims, what would you have done then? The whole case could have been destroyed! What would you have said?"

Arthur took a breath. "I know it was risky, but-"

"It wasn't risky, Arthur." Cobb was trying to steady his breathing. "It was completely stupid. If you do something like this again, you're-"

"I'm what, Cobb?" The Point Man looked at him, fixedly. "Finish the sentence."

"You're off the team. For good."

Arthur set his jaw. "Fair enough." He turned and walked out."

Cobb sat in his chair, feeling tired and defeated. Running his hand over his face, he was beginning to wonder if this case was worth it. His cellphone shrilled.

Cobb fumbled for it in his pocket, pulled it out, and opened it. "Hello?"

"Hi, is that Mr Dom Cobb?"

"Speaking."

"Mr Cobb, you don't know me. My name is Fran Roberts. I believe a colleague of yours, Arthur Ogilvie, came to see me the other day."

Cobb sat bolt upright. "Dr. Roberts?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Yes, Arthur is my colleague. How can I help you?"

"By explaining what he was doing. He told me he was a journalist. There's no record of him working for the journal he claimed. He's not police, he's not FBI. Maybe you would both like to come to my office and explain your interest in this case. I can help you…but only if you're honest with me."

Cobb swallowed. "We'll be there in half an hour."

"Good. See you then."

Sighing, Cobb dialled. After a few short rings, there was a click, and an answer.

"Hello?"

"Arthur? Look, I need you to come somewhere with me."

"Oh, I'm still employed, am I?"

Cobb exhaled slowly. "Look, I know I was angry. But I think you may have done us a favour. His shrink wants to meet with both of us. Can you get here quickly?"

"Be there in five."

* * *

Ariadne's pen moved over the drafting sheets. Eames was walking by, came over, and looked at it.

"Nice." He spoke admiringly. "Great work, Ari."

"Thanks." Her voice was barely audible.

"Ari-" Eames paused. "I know this is a dangerous case, but Arthur and I are here for you, remember that. If we think you're in any danger at any time, we'll do everything we can to get you out of it. Please believe me. Trust us."

"I do trust you, Eames." The Architect spoke slowly, hesitantly. "But-"

"But what?" His voice was gentle. She looked up and met his eyes.

"I just don't trust Cobb anymore, that's all."

* * *

Fran Roberts was every bit as immaculate as Arthur remembered. In a charcoal suit, with her hair up, she could have passed for a corporate lawyer. She shook hands with both men.

"Mr. Cobb." She smiled. "Its good to meet you."

"Just Dom, is fine." The Extractor felt slightly nervous. There was something about the psychiatrist that made him uneasy. Her gaze was intense, and he felt she was looking right through him.

"Yes, and you can call me Arthur," the Point Man volunteered. She turned to him.

"In that case, call me Fran." She gestured to two chairs opposite her desk, and they all sat. Arthur opened his case and pulled out a file. He looked at her, expectantly.

She cleared her throat. "I have a question to ask. Who are you both, what are you doing, and why are you sniffing around, trying to pull out information on a convicted felon? You do realise, that if you have obtained any information from me on false pretences, you could find yourselves prosecuted."

"How so?" Cobb spoke blandly.

Her smile was tight. "For trying to obtain classified information. If Jensen comes up for re-trial, and you have information that you've used against him in the public domain, you could find yourselves convicted of perjury."

"And let me ask you something, doctor." Cobb leaned forward. "Why are you suddenly so worried about us using information that you've supplied? Scared we're going to reveal the source if we have to?"

She shrugged. "You've already lied to me once, how do I know that you're not a couple of bent cops? Or some lunatics who think he's innocent and trying to get him released?"

"We're not." Arthur spoke up. "But what we are planning to do is a little – unusual."

Roberts raised her eyebrows, "Go on."

"We need to find Chandra Caddick's body. I didn't lie to you about that. I only lied to you about what I did. We are – sort of private investigators."

"Oh really?" She was smiling. "And what have your investigations deduced? Do you really think a couple of cowboys like you can succeed where the police and forensics failed?"

"Yes, we can." Cobb spoke firmly. "But to do so, we need you to co-operate. We need you to tell us everything you know about Jensen, and what your professional opinion is. We'll never disclose the source. After we've finished, you'll never hear from either of us again."

She whistled through her teeth. "You do seem genuine. But…I think I've told you everything. I just wanted to clarify I'll be a protected source."

"Don't worry, you are." Cobb nodded.

"Beg to differ." Arthur pulled his chair closer. "You didn't tell me everything. For example, why didn't you tell me that its really the accomplice that's inside?"

She looked at him. "Excuse me?"

"You're the psychiatrist." Arthur spoke calmly, his heart was pounding. "You would have figured out in minutes that it wasn't Jensen who the police caught. You would have deduced that everything that was told to you was scripted. Think about it, is it logical a killer would let someone else dump the body? No, he got his accomplice to take the rap whilst he dumped the body. You not only lied to me, you've never set the record straight with the police. Why would you do that, Fran?"

She stared straight at him, her eyes very cold. "I'm afraid you're too subtle for me, Arthur. Would you care to spell it out?"

"Certainly." The Point Man's voice was as sharp as his tailored jacket. "You assessed him, and gave a false one, verifying the case of mistaken identity. Why is that? Are you trying to catch the killer yourself?"

She got up from the desk, and went straight for a door that opened from the side of the office. Before the two men could move, she had gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, enjoy!**

"Where the hell did she-?" Cobb looked at the door, and then back at Arthur.

Arthur swallowed. "Stay calm. She may have-"

He broke off. The door re-opened, and Roberts walked back inside. She was holding a file, and raised her eyebrows at the two men.

"Going somewhere?" Her tone was neutral. "Or is there something I can still help you with?"

Cobb took a deep breath. "We thought you'd left. Maybe we were getting too close to the truth."

"No, you had the truth. I did make a deliberate misdiagnosis. The man inside isn't Jensen. But, because he's psychotic, and therefore believes in different realities, he was convinced he'd committed the murder. I misdiagnosed him because I thought if I did, it would get in the press. Every killer has his own style. Thinking he's been caught would lead an intelligent man like the killer to not kill again for fear of being caught."

Arthur looked at her. "You made a misdiagnosis? You could get struck off-"

"Oh, I wouldn't threaten me if I were you, Arthur." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you going to tell me why you came sniffing around a week ago? Or do I have to draw the conclusion that you're involved in something illegal? Do you want to tell me the truth – or do you want to have to tell the police? What are you up to?"

Cobb licked his upper lip. "Dr. Roberts, what are your opinions on dreams?"

She looked at him. "Do you want the Freudian view or the Jungian?"

"No." Cobb half smiled. "I want your view."

Roberts leaned back in her chair. "I think dreams can be repressed memories. I think they can be a projection of what we would like to happen. I think when we dream, we become vulnerable, and defenceless. We open up in our minds. We can let people in."

Cobb looked at her. "If I told you that we extract ideas from people whilst they're dreaming, what would you think?"

"I'd think it was entirely plausible, but extremely dangerous. If you take ideas from someone, you can take their identity. For example, what if you were going to extract an idea from me?"

Arthur looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious. You're going into my dream, to extract an idea about psychiatry from me, for a medical rival. That idea is something I've been working on for three years. You take that idea from me, I lose my sense of purpose. Is that what you want?"

Arthur broke in. "But if its only one idea – you could think of another one?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Why should I? Its my idea."

Arthur looked at her. "Do you believe us, Dr. Roberts?"

"I do. Because its so bizarre it has to be true. But why are you here?"

Cobb cleared his throat. "Because the mother of Jensen's victim asked us to. She wants us to use extraction to find out where he buried her. It was his accomplice who disposed of the body."

"But its not Jensen who is inside. It's the accomplice."

"Exactly, which is why we need your help. We need you to arrange it so that we can perform this extraction, and find out who actually killed her. This guy won't know where the body is, but if we can extract from him the idea of murder, we can hopefully identify who committed the crime. Then we can-"

"Find the killer and the body" Roberts finished. "It's a fascinating plan, but its extremely dangerous. For example, have you ever been inside the mind of a certified psychotic before?"

"No," Arthur spoke honestly.

"Well," she looked at them. "I'll assist you. On one condition. That after you've done this, you never, ever, make contact with me again."

Cobb nodded. "Agreed."

* * *

Arthur got back to his apartment, cursing as he smelled cigarette smoke. He'd requested Eames not smoke in the apartment, but knew he wouldn't listen. Taking off his jacket, he threw it over a chair.

"Arthur?"

"Yes." Arthur's tone was irritable. "I'm here."

Eames walked out of the kitchen, carrying two mugs. "Here. Coffee. Black. Drink."

Arthur blinked. "Thanks" He took the mug, and swallowed a gulp. "What have I done to deserve this treatment?"

"I need to talk to you."

Arthur checked his watch. "Can I shower first?"

"Nope. Sorry. This is serious. I saw Ariadne today."

"Oh?"

"She doesn't trust Cobb anymore. Doesn't want anything to do with him after this case. Frankly, neither do I."

Arthur blinked. "Eames, that is – completely unexpected." He took another swallow of coffee. "Why do you want to leave?"

"I don't agree with this Arthur." Eames' eyes were hard. "I think its one of the worst jobs we've ever agreed to. We're going into the mind of a man who has been an accessory to murder. You can't tell me that's not going to fuck us all up."

The Point Man blinked. "Eames-"

"No, let me finish. This is beyond sanity. You and Cobb want me to pose as an inside man to get close to the accomplice. Then you're going to come in and we're going into his dream. We're going to go into the mind of someone who is certified – yes, certified – as insane. What are we going to find? Are you and I and Cobb going to come out of that the same men we went in? The same men who'd rip a man's bollocks off if he slapped a woman? The same men who'd crawl over hot glass if we saw a woman being attacked in the street to help her? You can't tell me that we're not going to lose some of ourselves over this. You can't tell me that, Arthur!"

Arthur swallowed. "I agree its dangerous, Eames, but-"

"But nothing!" The Forger shouted, his face turning slightly red. "What are we exposing ourselves to? Are we going to come out of this thinking that its acceptable to hurt a woman? To force someone into doing something they don't want? To use violence, to use coercion? To slit her throat if she says no, hmm?"

"Eames." Arthur looked at the Forger. "You, I and Cobb have to pull together on this. We'll have to protect each other, look out for each other."

"You're scared, aren't you?" Eames lowered his voice.

"Yes, I am." Arthur admitted. "I'm scared about what it could do to us. I'm scared about what it could do to Ariadne. Maybe I'll come out of this looking at her a different way – hey, bitch, get on your knees and bark for me! – and maybe we'll fail. If we do, we could end up damaged and we'll have hurt a family. But we have to do this. Please."

Eames looked at the ceiling. "OK. But I mean what I say. No more after this. Ever."

Arthur nodded. "I'm with you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur looked up as the Wardress approached him.

"Mr Ogilvie? Jensen is ready to see you now. Would you stand up please?"

Arthur complied.

"Through the scanner." She gestured to the grey plastic device. As he walked through, it started to bleep.

She looked at him. "Are you wearing anything metallic?"

Arthur's hands instinctively moved to his throat. "My neck chain."

"Take it off, please." He complied, watching it disappear into the small grey box.

She gestured with her hand. "This way, please."

Arthur followed her, to a dark, dingy passage. On one side was a door, labelled "Meeting Room."

Arthur swallowed, and pushed the door open. Jensen was sitting, slumped, in a plastic orange chair opposite the thick plexiglass screen. He pulled his own chair out, sat down, and picked up the black telephone receiver.

Jensen sullenly copied him. "Yeah?" His eyes swept over the man sitting opposite him. Arthur swallowed.

"Mr. Jensen. I'm here on behalf of the District Attorney. I have a plea bargain for you."

Jensen shifted in his seat. "Oh really?"

* * *

Eames looked at Fran, and smiled. "I'm charmed."

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure you are. You've probably rehearsed that line a lot over the years. It gives you the control."

The Forger narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to psychoanalyse me?"

She smiled. "No, Mr Eames. I'm merely stating a fact."

Cobb moved in his seat. "Can I suggest we move on with this meeting? Dr Roberts, what is the purpose of you asking Eames to join us?"

"Its Fran, Dom." There was a slight irritation in her voice. "I'm just trying to work out if he's mentally stable enough to cope with the kind of confinement he'll be going into."

"Mentally stable?"

She leaned forward, and her voice dropped a notch. "This isn't going to be one of your so-called dreams. This is real. You'll be going into a correctional facility. You'll have to put up with taunting, verbal abuse, possible physical abuse, and with a backside like yours, I wouldn't recommend bending over in the showers."

Eames smiled. "That's fine, darling, I'll just bend over in yours."

She looked at him. "Take this seriously, why don't you?"

"Doctor," Eames spoke conversationally, "trust me when I say I'm taking this very seriously. We're going into the mind of an accomplice of a killer, and I'm being placed in there to try and get a handle on the situation. What makes you think I don't know what prison can be like, hmmm?"

She smiled. "I get the impression that you're not very comfortable with yourself, Mr Eames. You like to try and hide the real you behind this jokey exterior. But the real you is terrified of what you're about to do. And you're worried. But you're still going to do it, because you have decency, and you want to see justice done."

Eames' eyes narrowed again. "You're good. You're really good."

She smirked. "I bet you say that to all the women."

"No. Actually, I don't."

She looked at him, her eyes thoughtful. "I believe you."

Eames leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad, Doctor, I really am. Can we get down to business, now?"

* * *

"So what can you offer?" Jensen looked at Arthur. His eyes were a washed out blue, and he seemed small, shrunken. It seemed barely conceivable to the Point Man that the scrawny individual in front of him had assisted in killing anybody. He moved as though it were too much effort, and he seemed disinterested in everything Arthur had to say.

The Point Man decided to press on. He opened his briefcase, noticing that his hands were becoming damp with sweat. He pulled two cardboard files out.

"You're currently inside for the murder of Chandra Caddick." He was trying to keep his voice calm. "But, the body was never discovered. If you can give me any inclination as to where the body is, your sentence can be shortened due to your choosing to comply with the law."

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't even know what you're talking about."

"You must do." Arthur leaned forward in his seat. "You have been convicted of murder. You took a young woman, raped her, strangled her, and mutilated her. I've seen the pictures, Jensen."

"You've seen pictures? Big deal." He shrugged. "She was a slut, she deserved it."

"Is that how you think?" Arthur could feel anger starting to bubble up and break through his controlled surface. "She wouldn't go on a date with me, so I decided to teach her a lesson? Is that it? A woman won't let you do what you like, so you have to show her who's boss, you have to kill her?"

Jensen smirked, his features twisting grotesquely. "You'd do the same, man. You take a girl out, spend money on her, buy her dinner, and the bitch won't even give you head…you'd probably hit her."

"I wouldn't." Arthur could feel his rage rising. "If she says no, she means it!"

"Then are you gay?" Jensen was looking at Arthur in disbelief. "You take a girl out, she won't fuck you, and you just let her get away with it? You'd let the bitch disrespect you like that? You're a fucking traitor man!"

"A traitor?"

"A traitor to our sex. Guys like you are the reason why women do this. Do you like someone?"

Arthur swallowed. "Yes". It came out as a whisper. Jensen leaned forward and smiled, cruelly.

"You like someone? Really? What do you think everytime you see her walk past? Don't you want to just grab the back of her head, shove your cock into her mouth, and hear her moan? Don't you want to get her on that bed, stick it in to her, make that pussy raw? That's all women are, pussy. But guys like you, you've got it wrong. You think they deserve respect."

Arthur blinked. "I- I"

"You like sex, right? You want to fuck someone, right? Don't you ever look at someone and think that ass would look great on my dick?"

Arthur could feel his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. "Yes," he whispered. "I do."

"See? We're all the same. I just act on my impulses, whilst you're a good little boy and don't. Next time a girl disrespects you, just kill her, ok?"

"Wake me up", Arthur muttered. "Wake me up!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me - readers and reviews are appreciated, and thanked. **

Arthur sat motionless in an easy chair, a glass of Scotch perched on the armrest. The ice was melting rapidly, but he barely noticed. He shivered, and pulled his bathrobe tighter.

He'd felt increasingly trapped in the dream, and had gone from muttering to shouting. Loudly. Eventually, Ariadne had shaked him, and his eyes had flown open. He'd taken one look at her, practically ripped the IV from his arm, and left without a backward glance. He'd gone straight to the parking lot, and driven home.

He barely remembered the drive. All he remembered was pulling up in front of the apartment block, and running inside. He'd gone to the bathroom, pulled open the shower cubicle door, and turned the water on full blast. He'd got into it, not caring about the Armani suit, the expensive shoes, or his silk tie. Hot water had cascaded over him, whilst he'd frantically scrubbed at himself, trying to remove the sweat and stink of the projection.

He couldn't bear to have Ariadne touch him. She had reached out instinctively, wanting to comfort – but he'd pushed her hand away. He looked at her, and saw a young woman. A young woman who he could hurt, whom he could maim. Suddenly every fantasy he'd guiltily let pass through his mind seemed shocking, sordid, dirty.

He climbed out of the shower, not noticing the water that ran off and started to collect on the floor. He reached for his tie, and pulled at it, letting it fall to the floor. Then he began to pull at the buttons on his shirt, ripping a couple off in the process. The trousers fell down to his ankles, and he kicked himself out of them.

_Ariadne._ Horrified, he realised that merely thinking of her name had caused his groin to start to bulge. Arthur pulled down the toilet seat, grabbed a towel, buried his face in it, and wept.

Time passed. He shivered, and realised his skin was cold. Reaching for the blue bathrobe, he pulled it on his thin frame, and tied it tightly. He then went into the lounge, heading for the drinks cabinet. A large shot of Scotch was poured, and he sat down in an easy chair, trying desperately to blot out the thoughts circling in his mind like carrion-gnawing flies.

_Ariadne. _That body, naked. Lying in his bed. He shivered with the thought. She'd be there, waiting for him, and he would touch her. Gently. Very gently. He'd trace his arms down her body, kissing her. Then she would start to reciprocate and start to open herself up for him –

_- __What if she doesn't? Hit her!_

Arthur took a sip of Scotch. His hand was shaking. He closed his eyes, trying to blot out the image of their Architect, about to give herself to him. He tried to focus, tried to remember how she looked at him, and then he thought of himself, overcome with lust, not caring about how he acted. She was in his bed, she would do what he wanted. He shivered. No, he would do what she wanted. Their sex would be tender, not aggressive; it would have respect, not animalistic lust. He swallowed another mouthful of Scotch. Passive, aggressive, tender, desiring, devouring -

-The front door banged. "Hey up!" a voice shouted. Eames entered the apartment, and Arthur could tell by his footsteps he had gone straight to the bathroom. Arthur took another sip of Scotch, and felt tears began to roll down his face again.

The bathroom door opened, and Eames came through to the lounge. "Arthur, what the bloody hell is going on? Your clothes are soaked and all over-" he broke off as he took in the Point Man – his tousled hair, and blotchy face. His gaze swivelled to the Scotch in his shaking hand.

"Arthur?" Eames knelt down beside the younger man, concern filling his voice. "Arthur? Whats going on?"

Arthur took another swallow of scotch. "Eames. Leave it. Please."

"No." The Forger pulled a chair across, and sat in it. "I'm not going anywhere. This is not like you – did you shower with your suit on? Drinking at –" he checked his watch – "5pm in the afternoon? What is it Arthur? Please, talk to me."

"No." Arthur drained the rest of the Scotch. "Just leave me alone. I'm sure there's somewhere you can go."

"All right," Eames got up, frustration starting to creep into his voice. "If you won't talk to me, will you talk to Cobb? I can give him a call, he can come over-"

"NO!" Arthur hurled the glass across the room – it smashed into a wall. Eames was stunned. "Mind your own fucking business, Eames! Go back to London, go and find a whorehouse, just get out of my face!" Choking with sobs, he pushed past the larger man and ran to his bedroom. Eames stared after him, stunned. The door slammed, and the noise echoed around the suddenly silent apartment.

"So, will you help us?" Cobb looked at the psychiatrist. Her poise was unruffled.

"Yes." She took a sip of coffee. "I will. Because I want this bastard caught, and the Caddicks deserve to be able to bury their daughter. I will get Eames entry into the same section as Jensen, and I will oversee the dosage of sedative for you all."

"You believe me, don't you?"

Fran leaned back, and smiled. "Dom. The human subconscious is amazing. We've never even tapped its potential. I think you and your team might be uncovering what a 1000 PhDs in Psychology can't - how we can manipulate dreams. Trust me, you guys would be in demand from every blue chip Psych department in the world."

Cobb laughed. "Its nice to meet a professional who doesn't think I'm crazy."

She smiled and leaned forward. "Everyone's a closet fuck-up. Trust me. But-" she narrowed her eyes – "May I suggest that every single one of you undergoes an evaluation conducted by myself with an impartial observer present? I want to make sure that you're all psychologically healthy enough to do this. This is going into the mind of a man who is technically deranged. The actual killer will be worse. There could be trouble."

Cobb's hand froze as he lifted his cup to his mouth. "How do you mean?"

"I mean-" she paused, and swallowed. "Is there any danger that any of you could be susceptible to his thoughts? Influenced?"

"No." Cobb looked astonished. "Trust me, Arthur and Eames are very honourable, decent men, who would never-" his cell started to shrill, and he sighed with irritation. "Excuse me." She nodded.

He flipped his cell open. "Hello?"

"Dom? Eames. Get over here. Now."

"Why, hello to you too." Cobb's tone was sarcastic. He glanced back at the psychiatrist, her expression was inscrutable. "Listen, I'm in the middle of-"

"Arthur has locked himself in his room and won't come out. He's been drinking. Oh, and he got into the shower fully dressed. Please, Dom, get over here. He won't talk to me. He might talk to you."

Cobb's eyes widened. "Christ. I'll be right there." He snapped the phone shut and stood up. "Fran, I've got to go. Its Arthur. I've no idea what happened, but he's-"

She looked at him. "I'll come with you."

Cobb threw her a searching gaze. "Why?"

"Because I'm a trained psych. And if this is to do with the case, you might need me there."

The Extractor nodded. "OK. Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur sat behind the door, shaking. He could hear the Forger on the other side. He closed his eyes. Eames was persistant, and incapable of taking a hint.

"Arthur." Eames' voice was strong and clear. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to sit outside this door until you feel ready to open it." He heard a shuffling sound, and realised it was Eames sitting on the floor on the other side.

Arthur swallowed. "Just leave me alone. What is wrong with you?"

"I could ask you the same question." There was a hint of sarcasm in the Forgers' voice. "Showering with your suit still on, drinking in the afternoon, throwing a tantrum at me – not very you, is it Arthur?"

Arthur screwed his eyes shut. "What makes you think its not me? You don't even know me!"

"I know you well enough." The voice was gentle. "I know you well enough to know that this is not, cannot, be considered normal behaviour. And I don't care how much you scream, yell, or abuse me, I'm not going anywhere until you open this bloody door and start talking again face to face. If its all night, fine. I have a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of scotch."

Arthur leaned against the door, and reached in his bathrobe pocket for his loaded dice totem. He weighed it in his palm. No, this was reality. He closed his eyes.

* * *

Fran kept her eyes on the road as Cobb drove. He was grateful for her silence, as he was too preoccupied with what he'd been told to make conversation.

Arthur. Just what was happening with his team? His Forger had stated an intention to quit, the Architect was virtually refusing to enter the extraction, and now his Point Man seemed to have had a breakdown. Cobb swore under his breath.

"What's up?" Her tone was light.

"I'm..." Cobb stared at the road, gripping the wheel. "I'm pissed off, to be honest. Pissed off that Arthur's pulling this stunt, that Eames wants to quit, Ariadne wants out-"

"Are you pissed off with them – or pissed off that you're pissed off with them?"

Cobb blinked. That had been unexpected.

"Them." He smacked the steering wheel with his hand, accidentally sounding the horn. "I just can't get over their attitudes. This is just a job. Its only going to take three months or so out of our lives, and then we go back to normal. But not the Caddicks. That family has a life sentence. Knowing that their daughter will never come home for the weekend. Never bring a new boyfriend home. Never attend another wedding anniversary, birthday party, or see any new family members. They're the ones who should be upset, wanting out. But, no, my team have to go and start throwing their toys out of their prams! I want to quit, I want out! Fine, but stop making it so fucking hard in the meantime!"

Fran was silent. Cobb's breathing was slightly ragged.

"Are you a father, Dom?"

"Yes." He steered them through a side street. "I have two. One daughter. And let me tell you this – if what happened to Chandra happened to Phillippa, I would not rest until the individual who did it was six feet under."

"Are any of your team parents?"

"No. Ariadne's too young; Arthur definitely not; Eames – well, you've met him."

"I have. He's charming." She quirked an eyebrow. "And possibly one of the most insecure men I've ever met. As is Arthur. As are you."

He turned and looked at her. She was looking straight at him.

"You have no right to judge me." He tried to keep his voice calm.

"And you have no right to judge them." Her tone was sharp. "OK, you're feeling hurt and disappointed with your team at present. But, don't they have a right to be scared and worried? Are you trying to deny them that, Dom?"

"Psycholanalyse me later, ok?" Irritation flared in his voice. "First, you can deal with Arthur."

"Of course." She fell silent until the car pulled into the parking lot of Arthur's block. "But just think about this. You have a motive for doing this, Dom. Its a motive that the others don't have a first hand realisation of. If you push them, you could end up alienating them further. Think about it."

She unlocked her door, and got out. Cobb sat motionless in the driver's seat.

* * *

Arthur sat cross legged, trying to keep calm. His head was pounding, and all he could see in his mind was the transcript. The transcripted prose of the interview Fran had had with Jensen before he was tried.

"_Yeah…I hit her. I tore her tights off, and rammed them down her throat…she struggled…I hit her again."_

"_What did you hit her with?"_

"_A rock. The bitch screamed…she fucking deserved it. She wouldn't let me have that pussy. Can I have your pussy? You're hot. I bet you'd be a great fuck-"_

"_Oh do you? How nice. What else did you do?"_

"_I had a knife. I was gonna slit that bitch. Slit that pussy. Make her bleed. She wouldn't let me. She started to struggle. So I hit her. Again."_

A spasm of nausea hit Arthur in the pit of his stomach. Running to the en suite bathroom, he spat a mouthful of curdled bile into the toilet bowl. Leaning over it, he coughed, and heaved again.

Eames banged on the door. "Arthur, for Christ's sake, let me in!"

"Just go!" Arthur's voice was hoarse. He picked up the glass by the sink, filled it with water, and rinsed his mouth. Coughing again, he went to lie down on the bed.

* * *

Cobb slammed his car door and ran after the psychiatrist. She was already at the main door.

"Why are you being so hard on me?" His voice was intense, and his ice blue eyes locked with her hazel ones. "Why are you being so judgemental? Yes, I'm a father, I feel for that poor woman. Does that make me a bad person, doctor?"

Fran took a step back. Cobb's gaze diminished in its intensity.

"No." She spoke quietly. "It doesn't make you a bad person, Dom. But it does make you misguided. You're trying to convince your team to do something for someone else – but you're making it all about you. And they resent it. And so do I. Which is Arthur's door?"

Stunned, Cobb pointed to the button for number 17. Pressing the buzzer, they waited for a response.


	12. Chapter 12

**Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

As Eames opened the door, he exhaled with relief. Fran's eyes met his.

"Where is he?" It was a request.

Eames swallowed and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He's in his bedroom. He's barricaded himself in. Good luck."

She smiled and walked past him. "This door?"

"Yes." She turned round, and sat with her back to it. "Arthur?"

No response.

"Arthur. I know you're in there. And I know you can hear me. I don't expect you to respond to everything I say, but I want you to listen."

Eames watched, transfixed.

The psychiatrist cleared her throat. "You're in there, because you want to hide. You're scared. You're scared of something, and you're too scared to admit to it. You're scared to admit to it to your colleagues, your boss. But I don't know you Arthur. You can tell me what it is, because I'm going to listen, and then wash my hands of you, and walk away."

Cobb walked in, Eames turned and put his finger to his lips. Cobb's face darkened.

"There's something that's bothering you. You don't quite know what it is, but its like a madwoman in the attic. You know she's there, you know she wants out, but you're too scared to let her. You're perfectly controlled in your life, aren't you Arthur? You wear suits, you eat a balanced diet, you don't like excess, or messiness, or anything that spills over the edges. Something has happened to trigger those raw, messy emotions, and now you can't handle it."

There was a scuffling noise. Fran paused.

"This case has upset you Arthur. Why? Is it because it deals with a young woman's death? Is it because the person who killed her expressed raw, animal desire, a desire so dangerous it turned lethal? Or is it because this is something that you fear might be in you – the desire, the uncontrollable desire to overpower, to rape, to kill?"

A choking sob was heard from behind the door. Cobb looked from Fran to Eames, his face contorting with anger. Fran got up, and turned with her face to the door of Arthur's room.

"We all have desires Arthur. You can try and bury them behind your façade, but they'll bubble up eventually. They'll start to overtake you, to consume you. At the moment, they're consuming you, and you can't handle it. Let the door open Arthur, let it out!"

Cobb stalked over to her, and looked her straight in the face. "Stop it," he said tersely. "Stop it now."

"Do you mind?" Her tone was cool. "I'm trying to get to the bottom of this. You're interrupting."

"No you're not." Cobb's anger was boiling. He started to pound on the door. "Arthur, get out of there, now!" His tone was loud and furious. "Get out of there!"

Fran looked at the Extractor. "You're not helping, Dom."

"And you are?" Cobb's tone was taught. "You are, with this? What are you trying to do, get him to confess?"

"No," she said quietly. "I'm trying to get him to admit to something. That no matter how much we maintain our façade, we're all animals under the skin. We all have desires. Arthur, somehow, has seen the ugliest extreme, and that's whats fucking him up at the moment. Now, will you let me do what I've been trained to do, so you and he can do what you're trained for?"

Cobb was white with fury, but he took a step back. Fran began to speak again, her voice low and calm.

"What are you thinking about Arthur? Are you thinking about a girl you once liked, but didn't have the courage to talk to? Are you thinking about a girl you wanted to have sex with, but didn't have the courage of conviction to ask? Are you thinking about a pretty little thing you saw on the street, but felt wrong, and guilty, and tried to hide it?"

Cobb choked, but Eames was mesmerised.

"You're a rapist," Cobb spoke brokenly, his eyes boring into the psychiatrist.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're a fucking emotional rapist, Fran. That's what you are. What are you going to ask him next?"

"Excuse me," Eames cut in. "You're accusing Fran of being the emotional rapist? What about you? You're an emotional blackmailer Dom!"

"Eames, leave it!" Cobb's eyes never left the psychiatrist, who merely returned his hard state. None of them noticed the door handle to the bedroom starting to turn, and creak open.

"No, I won't!" The Forger was trying to control his voice, but his anger was starting to build. "You blackmail us all, time and time again! What about the Fischer job? You led us all into a death trap, knowingly led us into a death trap, and then tried to blame Arthur for it in the first layer! And why did you do that? Because Saito told you you'd get back to your children! You made us all feel that if we didn't continue with the job, you'd go to jail, and that would because we wouldn't co-operate. And now, you're doing it again! You're trying to blackmail us all into finding the body of a young woman, by going into the mind of a psychotic! We haven't even begun, and look what its done to Arthur! Do you really want a suicide on your hands, Dom, because if you do-"

Cobb flew towards the Forger, but a smaller frame got inbetween them. "Stop it." Arthur's voice sounded pale and drained of life.

Cobb exhaled. "Arthur! Why – what-"

"Just save it. I'm out of the bedroom." He walked towards the liquor cabinet, and pulled it open. Reaching for the scotch bottle, he poured himself a shot. "Anybody?"

Cobb watched, dumbfounded. Fran walked over. "I won't say no," she murmured. Accepting a glass, she took a swallow. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Cobb was slightly astounded, then recovered his composure. "Would you like to explain all this, Arthur?" Anger was still bubbling in his voice.

Arthur swallowed. "I…" he paused, and licked his lip. "I put myself under this afternoon. Yusuf gave me a dose."

Eames spoke gently. "Why?"

"I wanted to see what confronting Jensen could be like, in my mind." He closed his eyes.

"And?" Fran spoke. "What happened?"

"He was…ugly. Taunting. Told me what he did to her, she deserved. Then told me, wouldn't you like to do that to a girl?"

Cobb was stunned. "Arthur, it was a projection. You know that. It wasn't him, it was in your head, so-"

"That's the fucking problem!" Arthur yelled at the Extractor, stunning them all into silence. "This was in _my_ head, Dom! The idea of being so overcome with lust, with desire, it turns evil. It goes from wanting to hold hands with a girl, to wanting her on my dick! And if she doesn't want my dick, I give her what she deserves! Don't you understand?"

Cobb swallowed, unable to speak. Eames stepped forward.

"Oh, I understand, Arthur." He spoke dryly. "I understand perfectly." He looked at the Point Man. "Do you think I don't look at women, and wonder what she has under that dress, that skirt? Do you really think the first time I saw her – "he looked in Fran's direction – "Part of me wasn't wondering what she'd be like in my bed? An attractive woman like this, and I just reckon she'd be sensational in the sack. Probably ride me like a stallion and scream like a banshee all night! I understand, Arthur, I get you. Its this desire, isn't it, the desire to prove yourself a man, prove that you can be in control. But what stops me, Arthur, is knowing that if I do give into that, I'm going to end up broken. Its knowing I'm better than that. Its called lust, Arthur. I have it. You have it. And the fact you're afraid of it, shows you need to accept it and face up to it."

Arthur nodded dumbly. Eames raised his eyebrows.

"This case is making you face your fears," Fran spoke softly.

"I'm scared." Arthur admitted, tears starting to roll down his face. "There is someone I like…I can't let her be exposed to me." He looked at Cobb, anger flickering across his face. "And yet, you still want her on board. Will you please realise that she can't be involved? Its too dangerous. I don't want her near me."

Cobb's jaw dropped. After a few seconds, he found his voice.

"Oh my God. Ariadne."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"OK, just relax."

"Where do I sit?"

"Wherever you like!"

Arthur sat in a soft, easy chair, crossed his legs, and faced the psychiatrist. Her expression was calm.

"How do you feel about violence, Arthur?"

He swallowed. "I use it if I have to."

"In dreams?"

He nodded. "Yes, in dreams."

"But you wouldn't use it in reality?"

"It depends on the situation." He shifted. "I mean, if I were in a situation with someone, and they were being threatened, I would use it."

"But you wouldn't use it to gratify yourself?"

His eyes met hers. "No, I wouldn't."

"But thanks to the dream you went into, you now wonder if you would use violence to get what you want."

"Yes." He shifted again.

"It was only a dream, though, wasn't it?"

Arthur stood up, looking agitated. "You don't understand. It was in my head. It was my projection. My projection, saying those things. I made her kiss me on the last job. To distract everyone in Fischer's subconscious. I manipulated her. Used her."

"You still feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"Stop it. She went along with it. She was willing. And it was all you did."

"But what-" Arthur's heart was beginning to pound. "What if I want more, and can't control it?"

You don't have to listen to it. You can control it. You can confront it."

"But..." his voice started to break, and he swallowed. "What if I want to do those things?"

She looked at him. "Do you want me to tell you you're sick, crazy? Because I won't. Give in, Arthur. Admit to feeling lust, anger, jealousy, desire! I do! What makes you think that whilst Ariadne's sitting talking to you, she's not also thinking about how you would look under her?"

His face went crimson. "I-"

"Do you get it? We can all desire. Problem is, you've gone to the extreme, and its scared you. You can get back your calm, your control. Just accept that you are not him. You can control yourself."

Arthur choked. "I want to."

"Didn't you tell her you'd protect her?"

"Yes."

"Then do so. Accept that by having that dream, and that projection, you realised what you fear the most – what you could be capable of. That's whats scared you. But by knowing this, you can protect her. You can protect her from him, and also from you. Its self awareness."

Arthur blinked. "How did I get here?"

"You haven't figured it out yet? We're currently at your apartment, I'm giving you a therapy session."

"But this office-" slowly, Arthur turned. "You're trying to use extraction on me, Doctor. You've got in my head, you're trying to use my subconscious to convince me that I'll be ok."

Fran smiled wryly. "Nice try, Art. But you see, we're not in your head. Look at the decor in this office. We're in mine. And therefore, your subconscious can't fight me, and you're accepting what I say."

* * *

Cobb surveyed the two dreamers. "Wake them up," he gestured to Yusuf.

* * *

Eames stood at the entrance, and gave the crowd a surveying look. He knew exactly who he was looking for. Moving to the bar, he put in an order for a Scotch on the rocks, and waited.

A blonde man sidled up, his expression laconic. Eames gave him a quick, sideways glance.

"Don't I know you?" The man's tone was curious. Eames took a sip of Scotch.

"I'm not sure. Do you?"

"I've seen you before." The man's tone was hesitant, then he looked him full in the face. "I do remember you. You were here with that skinny dark haired guy."

"Oh yes, my other half." Eames raised his eyebrows.

"He's cute." The man looked at the Forger. "You're a lucky guy."

Eames shrugged. "Oh, he's allright. Bit whiney at times, bit of a princess." He took another sip of scotch. "Doesn't really like being approached in bars. Especially when someone says anything could happen to him."

The blonde looked slightly stunned. "I meant you could bump into anyone in these places. Anyone at all. All kinds of weirdos. People who'll do anything to get what they want."

Eames looked at him, and smiled. "There's a table over there. Would you like to explain what you meant by that?"

The blonde looked hostile. "Do I have to?"

"Does the name Michael Jensen mean anything to you?"

The blonde looked panicked. "Jensen? He's in jail. And he deserves to be after what he did to that poor guy, trust me-" he broke off, cursing as he realised he's said too much.

Eames smiled. "As I said, there's a table over there. Shall we go?"

Arthur sat up, gasping. Fran stirred, and her eyes opened.

"Well, dream extraction." Fran sat up. "Very interesting, Dom. I think we may have made a breakthrough."

Arthur was rubbing his forehead. "So, you guys come round, and I got sedated?"

"Yep." Cobb looked at him. "I know it was an extreme thing to do, but we didn't think an old fashioned therapy session would work."

Arthur put his face in his hands. It had been two days since the confrontation at his apartment. He'd spent the first day afterwards hiding inside, unwilling to go out or face anybody. Eames had given up trying to persuade him, and had simply left him to it. Finally, the Forger's patience had run out.

"Do you want to go out somewhere?" Eames had asked on the first evening. "A bar, maybe?"

"No, thanks."

"Arthur – this is worrying." Eames looked at him. "You had a bad projection. It doesn't mean its you. Its not. Its what you think Jensen would be like-"

"But its not Jensen, Eames, we've established that." Arthur looked at him. "Its the accomplice. And if the accomplice affects me this badly, what about when we meet the real killer?"

Eames took a deep breath. "Arthur. You are many things – humourless, pedantic, irritating, fussy, and sometimes downright rude. And those are your better qualities. But there is one thing you are not – and thats a misogynist. I've never seen you treat Ariadne with anything other than respect. I'm sure – absolutely convinced – you would never do anything to threaten or frighten her."

"But I-" Arthur swallowed. "I did get her to kiss me on the Fischer job."

Eames shrugged. "Big deal. I'm sure there are others who would do worse. And the fact you're so worried about it indicates you're unlikely to do it again."

Arthur put his head in his hands. "I can't face her at the moment. I just can't."

"Arthur." Eames leaned over and touched his arm. "You like her. She likes you. I know that you would show her respect, and treat her well."

"Of course I would." Arthur fell silent. "I like to think I would – but I'm not sure."

"What about talking to Fran?" Eames spoke gently. "She is a shrink. Maybe talking to her would be the best way."

"What sitting in a chair whilst she psychoanalyses me? No thanks."

Eames smiled. An idea was beginning to form in his mind. "Whatever you say, Artie."

Arthur turned and looked at the psychiatrist. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She looked at her watch. "I have to go. I have a patient to see in an hour, and its going to take me thirty minutes to get to my private practice office." She stood up.

Cobb spoke hurriedly. "I'd better go too. I need to see how Ari's doing at the warehouse. Art, get a shower, get dressed, and come in when you want to."

The Point Man nodded. "OK."

The Extractor and Psychiatrist turned to leave. Arthur called out.

"Wait! Thank you!"

Fran turned. "Don't thank us. It wasn't my idea, and it wasn't his. It was Eames."

Arthur looked surprised. "Eames? What?"

"I think you have a better friend there then you thought," She said, drily.

Arthur looked around. "Where is Eames?"

Cobb frowned ,then his face cleared. "He said he'd be in later. That he was following up a lead."

"A lead?" Arthur looked surprised. "Oh, Christ!" Pushing past both of the others, he went straight into the bedroom.

Cobb looked bemused. "I guess we'd better leave them to it." He turned to Fran. "Listen, about last night..."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"What I called you-" his face was scarlet. "I'm sorry, Fran, truly. I know you were trying to help Art, and-"

"Don't mention it." She turned and walked to the Front door. Cobb watched her, trying to suppress the feeling of regret exploding in his chest.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Another vodka?" Eames gestured to the empty glass in front of his companion.

John giggled. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Oh no." Eames raised his eyebrows. "Merely get you a bit...loose."

John giggled again. Eames checked his watch. He'd set up the "therapy session", telling Cobb and Fran to arrive as early as possible. He'd made coffee, and slipped a mild sedative in Arthur's. As soon as Arthur had slumped in the armchair, dozing off again, the doorbell had rung. Eames had let them in, told them he was meeting a contact, and left.

The idea of going back to the bar had occurred last night. Eames felt there was a rich vein of information lying there, and it could lead to the killer. Which, he thought frustratedly, was why he was sitting in a smoky, dingy bar with a drunken man giggling at him.

"I won't say no." John giggled again. "So...what're you saying?"

"I was wondering if you knew any men here called Michael." Eames pulled another cigarette out of the packet.

"Oh, sure...lots."

Eames leaned forward. "Can you-"

Suddenly, another figure appeared. Eames blinked as he took in the Point Man, dressed in dark blue suit, and with his hair slightly mussed. A fixed grin was on his face.

"Why, I didn't expect you!" Eames was genuinely taken aback. "I thought you were sleeping!"

"I woke up." Arthur gestured. "Will you move over-" he suddenly remembered Eames had called him Aaron on the first night they were there, so he came out with the first name he could think of "-Arthur!"

Eames' jaw dropped. "Oh, of course."

Arthur slid into the booth, pushing against the Forger. "You know if you're going to pick up young men, you tell me." He reached his hand under the table and squeezed Eames' knee. The Forger nearly dropped his glass.

"Oh, " Eames breathed in Arthur's ear, "never knew you-"

"Its for appearances," Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, close to Eames' ear. "I've already been in Fran's head this morning, why not pretend to get in your underpants?"

The Forger stifled a grin. "Whatever you say, darling. I am wearing clean ones."

Arthur turned ,and fixed his attention on John. He cleared his throat.

John giggled again. "I'm not into threesomes."

"Suits me." Arthur said calmly. "I'd just like to know why you're talking to my boyfriend. I mean, you can meet some real creeps in places like this-" he winced as Eames kicked him under the table.

"Tell me about it." John was starting to slur. "I met a creepy little guy a few weeks ago. Wanted to take me home, said his boyfriend would really like me."

"Why was he creepy?"

John shrugged, and smiled at Arthur through an alcoholic veil. "He was weird, man.

"Weird?" Arthur pressed on. "How?"

"He said his boyfriend liked violence. Liked it rough. Liked women as well. I'm not into that."

A jolt of electricity ran through Arthur. He looked at Eames.

"He liked women?" Arthur's tone was calm.

"Yeah." John was trying to drain the last dregs of his glass of vodka. "But...I can't stand guys like that. Don't know what they want."

"What as his name?" Arthur was trying to stay calm.

John looked confused. "Huh?"

"What was the name of the guy who offered to take you home?"

"Mikey."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Mikey...can't remember his last name, sorry."

"What was his boyfriend's name?" Arthur was beginning to feel completely in control.

"He said he was called Rafe."

Arthur looked at Eames. "Thanks. Come on, Artie, lets get out of here!"

Eames followed Arthur dumbly, and didn't say a word until they reached the parking lot. Arthur unlocked the car, and gestured for Eames to get in.

"Don't say anything", he snapped, as the Forger opened his mouth.

"Wasn't going to." Eames shrugged. "Except, I'm apparently now you. Of course, I'll have to get some tailored suits and lose about 5 stone, but I'm sure the rest of the team will understand."

Arthur glared. "Stop it. Do you realise what we've just done?"

"Enlighten me."

"We've just discovered the potential identity – or partial identity – of the killer."

"Maybe." Eames rolled down the window and exhaled. He turned to look at the Point Man. "Did you enjoy your session this morning?"

Arthur kept his eyes on the road. "You mean, you convincing Cobb to bring Fran over to delve into my head?"

"Yep. Thought it was the best way. You wouldn't open up otherwise."

"You know Eames," Arthur commented as he steered down a side street. "I sometimes think you know me like a good friend."

"Thats because I am." Eames of inhaled again before flicking the stub out of the window. "So, how do you feel about seeing Ari?"

"Cobb can't let her come into this." Arthur gripped the wheel.

"It was just a projection."

"Yes, I know. And I know I said I'd protect her. But, its still a psychotic's mind. Look what it did to me, and it was only a projection."

Eames fell silent. They two men drove on towards the Warehouse.

* * *

Cobb swallowed some water. He was sifting through the files on Arthur's desk, scrutinising them, looking for anything he could find on the killer.

He bit his lip in frustration. Everything in the file was everything Fran had given to him. Dead end. He sighed and put his pen down.

"Hey up!"

Cobb looked up to see both the Forger and Point Man approaching. He smiled tiredly. "Hey."

Arthur didn't meet his eyes, but nodded. Cobb felt his chest tighten.

"So, where have you been?"

"Fishing." Eames lit up another cigarette. "For information. We think we may have found out part of the actual killer's identity."

Cobb leaned forward. "What?"

"Well," Eames begn, "we went back to the gay bar and-"

"You did what?" Cobb stood up, his face contorting. "Why? I thought I told the two of you not to do this again!"

"Dom," Eames spoke. "This case is going nowhere. We've already lost time. I wanted to do something to get it moving."

"And you were in on this?" Cobb turned to the Point Man.

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I felt like a victim myself!" Anger was starting to bubble up in the Point Man. "I went under, and my subconscious tormented me, making me think I could be just like that seedy little lowlife, that I could think like him! I was scared last night, and you saw that, and Eames, and Fran Roberts. I refuse to be a victim of this case as well!"

Cobb exhaled. "OK, I get you."

"Well, we do have a possible name." Eames chipped in. "And when you place me as the inside man, I should be able to find out more."

"Eames." Arthur spoke. "You're not going to be the inside man."

"What?" The Forger looked at him. "Come again?"

Arthur looked at them both.

"I'll do it. Just trust me."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"You can't be serious."

The silence in the room was heavy. Arthur turned away from Cobb's intense stare, and looked at the floor.

Eames cleared his throat. "Why are you saying you'll do this, Arthur?"

The Point Man looked at the Forger. "Because it makes more sense. What was it you said – its always the quiet ones?"

Eames swallowed. "Artie, that was a joke. A bad one. It wasn't intended to imply that you should be the insider."

"You're not doing it." Cobb's voice was firm. "Forget it." He turned to Eames. "Later today, we start getting this set up, and see how we can feed you into the prison."

"Excuse me?" Arthur looked at Cobb in amazement. "Did you just tell me not to do it, and dismiss it completely?"

"Yes." Cobb turned his back to the Point Man. "Forget it, Arthur. Its a stupid idea!"

"Almost as stupid as us doing this in the first place? Almost as stupid as the Fischer job?"

Cobb froze. His hands, which had been shuffling papers, stopped abruptly. He turned and faced Arthur, whose face was slowly changing from red to white.

"You're being a bit subtle for me, Arthur." Cobb's voice was hard. "Why don't you explain those cracks in full? Enlighten me!"

"OK." The Point Man faced the Extractor. "This is a stupid idea. Its stupid, and dangerous. How do we know that the killer is even alive still? How do we know that we'll find the body? How do you know that this isn't a set up? This isn't a quick job, it could take months!"

"Oh, so I'm depriving you of a life, am I? Funny, Arthur, the only thing you ever sleep with is your laptop!"

Arthur's face turned crimson. Eames stepped in.

"This isn't getting us anywhere." He stated flatly. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. "This case – Dom, surely you can see that all its achieving at present is stirring up bad feeling between us all."

"No," Cobb said coldly. "What its doing is revealing that you are all totally unreliable. Arthur, surely you remember what happened a couple of nights ago. You were crying and ranting, and we had to use extraction on you!"

"Dom-" Eames began, but he was cut short by the Point Man's anger.

"Are you going to ever let me live that down?" Arthur's eyes bored into Cobb's.

"Why should I?" Cobb's face was becoming more suffused with anger. "What have you done to assist or support me since this started? Why should I trust you? And now you want to go inside a prison, when we've already agreed that Eames should do it!"

"Arthur," Eames broke in. "Have you really thought this through? Prison isn't like a fraternity. Its hard. You'll be subject to abuse, taunting, harassment. You'll have no privacy and no secrets. And as for your pretty face – you'll be a bloody pulp within days. You'll get ripped apart."

Arthur was speechless, then recovered himself. "You seem very sure of yourself with this, Eames."

"Lets just say that once you've been inside, you remember." The Forger lit his cigarette. "Its a completely different world. Its a world of secret rules and games. You need to know how to play it. You don't. I do. Just trust me, for God's sake!"

"For Christ's sake Arthur, just do as you're requested." Cobb's voice was weary. "Just do the research on this case, let me do the extraction, and let Eames go inside. You know what you're good at. I know this case is disturbing, I know its distressing, but it helps a family, so lets just pull together and just do it!"

"Going into prison is doing the research!" Arthur's temper finally exploded. "You really think having me hunched over a laptop for days is going to benefit us? This is an opportunity to get some first hand accounts, and you know that I have a better eye for detail than Eames!"

"Of course you do," Cobb's voice was sour. "So good you didn't even notice that Fischer had had his mind militarised, and nearly got us killed in the first layer. Really good research there, Art. You really lived up to your responsibility."

Arthur sucked his breath in. Eames' jaw sagged.

"Well, if you have such a low opinion of me, you won't notice if I'm not here." Arthur walked to his desk and picked up his laptop. "See you."

Cobb walked after him. "Arthur, look, that was-"

"Shitty of you." Arthur glared at him. "Find yourself another Point Man, Dom. I've had enough. You threatened to throw me out, well, now I'm walking. See you."

The Forger and Extractor stood motionless as the Point Man snatched up his laptop, turned, and stalked out of the warehouse. Eames hurried after him.

"Arthur, look-"

"Save it." His tone was curt. "You can both take your case, and your giant egos, and disappear forever. Tell Ariadne I'm sorry."

With a shove to the swing door, he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Arthur stormed down the stairs, his face contorted with anger. He was moving so quickly he didn't notice the Architect walking up towards him.

"Arthur?" Her face was questioning; he ignored her. "Arthur!"

She heard the sound of his footsteps on the last few steps, and then the sound of the outer door banging shut.

Ariadne hurried up the steps, already wondering what she would find.

* * *

"You bloody idiot!"

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" Cobb's anger was still boiling. "I'm an idiot now, am I Eames? Would you care to explain that?"

"Certainly." The Forger lit a cigarette before continuing. "We've just lost our Point Man. We've just lost a crucial member of the team. I suggest one of us, or both of us, goes after him and gets him to stay."

"He doesn't want to," Cobb spoke flatly. "Leave him to it."

Eames looked at the Extractor in disbelief. His eyes narrowed. "I don't think I understood you there, Dom. Are you saying that if Arthur wants to go, he can?"

"I'm saying if Arthur isn't prepared to do as he's asked, he can. Its his decision."

Eames narrowed his eyes. "And what if I'm not prepared to be inside man? What do I do?"

"You can go," Cobb didn't look at him. "You can go, and I'll assemble a new team. Because I'm not prepared to let you, or Arthur, or anyone, stand in the way of solving this case."

"Its not a crusade, Dom."

"Eames-" Cobb's voice held a warning. The Forger ignored it.

"Whats happened to you, Dom?" Eames made eye contact with the Extractor. "You are obsessed with this. You're obsessed with finding a killer. You are the best Extractor, but you're not without Arthur. You've just alienated the person who'll help you solve this case. I'd go after him if I were you."

"You're not me." Cobb's voice was harsh. "You're not me, you're the Forger. "

"I'm glad I'm not you," Eames' voice was quiet. "Because you're becoming a complete arsehole."

Eames turned and walked out, leaving Cobb motionless.

The Forger's foot hit the top of the stairs, and he came face to face with Ariadne.

"Eames!" She looked distraught. "What's happened? Arthur just left, and didn't even acknowledge me!"

Eames sighed. "Hello, Princess. Do you fancy a cup of coffee?"

She nodded, dumbly. Eames gently took her elbow and led her down the stairs.

* * *

Arthur drove. He knew where he was going – her office was downtown. As he swerved into the parking lot, he took a few deep breaths.

Going inside the modern looking building, he smiled at the receptionist. She smiled back.

"Hi." Arthur tried to keep his voice calm. "May I see Dr Francesca Roberts? I'm an associate of hers. Arthur Ogilvie."

"Oh, sure," the receptionist replied. "She's not with a patient. I'll buzz and tell her you're here."

The girl fiddled with the intercom. Arthur looked at the walls – they were a soft sand, with modern prints. After a few minutes, she looked up and smiled. "Go right up."

"Thank you." Arthur pulled himself up straight, and walked to the elevator.

* * *

Eames placed a latte in front of the architect. He picked up his double espresso. "Cheers," he said without humour.

Her smile flickered and faded. "Whats happened?"

The Forger sighed – he needed a cigarette, then noticed the prominent NO SMOKING sign. "Arthur and Cobb had a...disagreement."

Her eyebrows went up. "A disagreement."

"Yep." Eames took a sip. "Arthur wants to be the inside man in prison, rather than me. Cobb didn't like the idea."

Ariadne looked horrified. "The inside man? He can't be!"

"Oh, I'm glad you think so." Eames sipped his espresso again. "We thought it was a bit daft, too."

The Architect swallowed. "Eames, I know Arthur doesn't like this case. I don't. But, he said- he said he'd protect me. How can he do that if he's inside?"

"He can't." Eames said simply. "Ariadne, Arthur isn't reacting very well to this case. I think he finds it hard to handle."

She nodded. "What can we do?"

Eames put his cup down. "At the moment, nothing."

She shivered. A tear fell into her latte.

* * *

"Arthur!" Fran stood up. Her private office, Arthur noted, was exactly as it had been in the dream – soft sand colours on the walls, some expensive, tasteful furniture; lots of books. She was wearing a light grey suit, and her make up was immaculate. "How are you?"

"I've been better."

"Really?" Her eyebrows went up. The Point Man's expression was cold.

"Have you been talking to Cobb about me?" The words came out as a demand. Fran looked at him.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was polite.

"Have you been talking to Cobb about me?" His voice rose, and he struggled to maintain his composure. "He seems to think I'm not capable of being the inside man! You must have said something!"

Fran took a step forward. "Arthur. Sit down, and shut up."

Slightly stunned, Arthur complied.

"I haven't said anything to Cobb," her voice was sharp. "Because I'm a psychiatrist – its called confidentiality. What happened in that dream is between you, and me. I have told Cobb I think he's doing this case for the wrong reasons, and also that he's trying to push you all down a dangerous path. But all he's seen of you is what you've chosen to expose."

Arthur swallowed. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh. What makes you think you're suitable for being the inside man? Do you have any experience? Eames clearly does, and he's certainly more mentally robust than you at present. You want to do this to prove something to yourself, not to help the team."

"You don't know that."

She smiled. "No, I didn't. You've just told me."

Arthur felt deflated.

"You can't let this turn into your personal crusade as well." Her voice was gentle. "Cobb already is. Let Eames go inside."

"But I'm more subtle." Arthur's voice was insistent. "I can work it from the inside."

"You'll have to convince Cobb."

Arthur swallowed. "I thought you'd say that."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb poured himself a large scotch, and lifted it to his lips. "Cheers," he said without humour. Taking a long swallow, he walked to an easy chair, and threw himself into it. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine the entire day had never happened. He took another sip.

There was a knock at the door. Cobb groaned. "Oh, for-" He stood up. "Who is it?"

"Its Ari. Please let me in?"

* * *

Arthur barely looked up as the front door banged. He was sitting hunched over his laptop, the flickering screen casting a shadow across his face.

Eames came into the room. "You didn't change the locks, then?"

"You would have picked them anyway." The Point Man didn't even look up, merely continued pouring over his notes.

Eames bit back a retort, and headed for the kitchen. "Coffee, tea?"

"No. Thank you."

"How about a slap, then?" The Forger came back into the main living room, and looked at Arthur. "How about a smack in the mouth to try and get some sense back into you?"

Arthur looked at the Forger. "Eames, don't. Just don't." He walked to the liquor cabinet, and pulled it open.

"How many of those have you already had, Artie?"

"You just fucking watch it, allright?" Arthur's face was crimson. He angrily slammed the bottle of scotch back down. "Don't you dare judge me, Eames! You're the one whose going to be inside man, because you know what its like to be inside! You're the one who gambles, steals, cons! Don't you dare judge me for drinking!"

"I'm not judging you for drinking." The Forger's voice was calm. "I'm judging you for behaving in the manner you are. What are you trying to prove, Arthur? That you're just as brave and tough? We know you are. Who killed people in zero gravity on the Fischer job? Who rigged a kick in zero gravity?"

"And who nearly got you all killed in the first layer?" Arthur's voice was bitter. "Who didn't notice that Fischer had had his mind militarised? Who nearly got punched by Cobb? Was that you? Was it Ariadne? Nope. Guess again."

Eames looked at Arthur. "Is this what its all about? You're trying to prove that you can still cut it?"

"Maybe."

"What about Ariadne?" Eames' expression hardened slightly. "I had coffee with her today. She was in tears. You pushed past her on the stairs, gave no reason as to why you left. She told me that you told her you'd protect her." He leaned closer. "You can't go back on that, Arthur. You just can't."

"I can't protect her." The Point Man looked at the Forger. "I can't."

Eames looked at him. "Yes you can."

* * *

"Look, Ari," Cobb spoke tiredly. "I know what you're going to say, and its –"

"No, you don't." The words came out in a rush. "Why have you let Arthur go from the team?"

"I haven't let Arthur go. He walked off his own accord."

Ariadne blinked, shocked. "But you didn't try and stop him?"

"Why should I? He's a grown adult. " Cobb took another sip of Scotch. "He was asked to do a job, he refused. It really is that simple."

"He said he'd protect me on this job."

"No-one needs to protect you, Ariadne." Cobb looked at her. "No-one. You don't even have to go inside Jensen's mind. All you have to do is design and then let me and Eames handle it."

"What about Arthur?"

Cobb shrugged. "Its his choice."

"No, its not."

Cobb blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You told him to go!" Ariadne was nearly in tears. "He said something you didn't like, and you told him to go!"

"If that's what you think-"

"Its what I know!" Her voice was rising in volume. "He wanted to be inside man, and you refused! You know he's the best for the job, and you-"

"Ari, you know nothing about this. Drop it."

"If you don't let Arthur back," her voice was quavering, "I will not design for you. At all. I will take the designs I have, and burn them."

Cobb's jaw dropped. "You're not serious."

"Try me." Her voice was forceful, and the way she was glaring at him reminded Cobb for a split second of Mal. He swallowed.

"So, if I don't get Arthur back, you walk?" He sounded disbelieving.

"Yes, Cobb. That's exactly it."

* * *

Arthur smiled as Eames handed him a steaming cup. "Thank you."

"So, why do you think you can't protect Ariadne?" Eames put a cigarette in his mouth. "Talk to me."

Arthur sighed, "Its this case. Chandra Caddick. She was 25, had her whole life ahead of her. And some asshole decided to end it."

Eames lit his cigarette. "What else?"

"Its just-" Arthur paused and swallowed. "I know that Fran diagnosed me as not being able to deal with feeling lust. But what about power? Have you ever looked at a woman and thought 'I want her, I could overpower her?'"

Eames looked at Arthur. "Sometimes, yes. And as I've said before, it's the abilty not to which separates us from animals. And the psychotic."

Arthur fell silent.

"I would never hurt a woman, Arthur. Neither would you. But you've convinced yourself you can, and that's the problem. How is going inside a prison going to help?"

"It'll make me realise I'm not like them. I can control myself." He looked at Eames. "When we go into Jensen's mind, we are looking for his secrets. The secrets of how he helped someone kill somebody. If I kill Jensen in the dream, he wakes up. We then disclose the killer, and the police catch him – but they're still alive."

"But they're contained."

Arthur bit his lip. "But we'll be in their minds. Seeing it. Seeing what they did. But at least we'll have the answers."

"Remember." Eames voice was gentle. "One of us will be the dreamer. Jensen's the subject. His subconscious will try and protect him."

Arthur looked at Eames. "Then I guess we'd better practice. Lets go to the warehouse and get started."

"Don't you think you should talk to Cobb first?"

Arthur shrugged. "If he wants to talk to me he can find me." His cellphone began to buzz. He sighed with annoyance. He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Arthur? Cobb."

Arthur stiffened.

"Listen, you need to come back on the team. This will be the last job you do for me, and then that's it. Do what you like."

"I guess you need a Point Man?"

"No." Cobb's voice was curt. "I need an architect. Ariadne threatened to walk if you didn't come back. Thank her. Not me." He hung up.

"Was that Cobb?" Eames raised his eyebrows.

"Yep. Ariadne said she'd quit if I didn't come back."

Eames smiled. "Maybe she should be protecting you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated ,thank you!**

"So what happened that night?"

"I don't remember."

"Yes, you do. What happened? Did you go out with her? Or did you hide outside her apartment and stalk her?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"As a matter of fact, I would. I really, really would."

Jensen leaned forward, and smiled at Arthur. His teeth were chipped and decaying. "I bet you do. I bet you want to know how I made that bitch scream and beg, don't you?"

Arthur leaned forward. He didn't return the smile. His voice was cold and soft.

"Go on, Mikey. Enlighten me."

* * *

"He just has to feel in control of everything. That's why he wants to be inside man. If he can't control it, he's not happy."

"Has he always been this way?"

"Yes."

"Has he ever been out of control?"

"Yes."

"Has he ever let you down?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

Cobb took a deep breath. "It was on the Fischer job. The most important job we'd done – a lot was riding on it. Arthur didn't do the research properly – he didn't find out that Fischer had had his mind militarised."

"Militarised?"

"Protected. We nearly lost someone."

"And how did you react?"

Cobb put his face in his hands, remembering vividly how he'd screamed at Arthur and jabbed his finger in his face. "I lost it. I told him it was his responsibility, we weren't prepared. He told me he was sorry, tried to smooth it over."

"How do you feel now?"

"I still feel hurt, angry. I trusted him. He could have got us killed."

"So – would you say you don't want him doing anything that could lead to that again?"

"Yes."

"How do you think this makes him feel?"

"I'm not sure. Angry, probably." Cobb swallowed. "But I did kind of mislead them all. Arthur was convenient to blame."

"Do you think being inside man is his opportunity to try and show you you can trust him again with that level of control?"

"Possibly."

"Why do you think Eames would be better than him?"

"I think he has more experience."

"But do you think Arthur would be more accurate with the research?"

Cobb took a deep breath and looked at Fran. "Probably. But what if it affects him again, so badly?"

Fran relaxed in her chair. "Maybe you should trust him."

"I want to."

"Whats stopping you?"

"It's the way he was that night." Cobb closed his eyes. "So distraught, so scared. I know he has feelings for Ariadne. I know how much he cares. I know he would never hurt her."

"But he thinks he can."

"Yes."

* * *

"What do you want to know, man?" Jensen looked at Arthur, his expression insolent. "How I beat her up? Raped her? Do you want some tips?"

Arthur smiled. "Trust me, I don't need tips from a lowlife like you. What did you do?"

"I asked her out."

"And what happened then?"

"She said yes…but she wouldn't have sex with me. Isn't it frustrating, when you just want to stick it in there and they go all frigid."

Arthur smiled again. "Oh, I agree, it just drives you wild doesn't it? You want her and she doesn't want you. But, unfortunately for you, Chandra Caddick was right in not wanting you."

Jensen's expression was puzzled. "What do you mean, man?"

Arthur reached to the side of his body, and pulled out a gun. Smiling coolly, he levelled it at Jensen's face. Despite the thick Plexiglas, Jensen baulked and tipped back.

"Because you're scum." Arthur kept his voice low and hard. "Buying a woman dinner does not give you the right to try and force her into having sex. Showing a woman attention does not give you the right to force her to do anything."

"You're supposed to be on my side." Jensen's eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you?"

"Because we're not on the same side." Arthur clicked the trigger.

"You know we're the same." Jensen's voice was almost a hiss. "You look at that pretty dark haired girl you work with, and you just want her up against the wall, slamming your dick into her until she screams and begs for mercy. That's what you want. She wears something tight, you cum in your pants. You can't control yourself, you know you won't, we-re just the-"

Arthur fired. Jensen toppled from his chair. Suddenly, the Point Man felt the kick.

* * *

Cobb stood up, and looked at the psychiatrist. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Fran."

"Don't mention it," she said, graciously. "I know that you want to get this solved. I'm prepared to work with you and your team to get that result.

"Do you think you'll need to assess Arthur?"

"Cobb." The psychiatrist looked at him. "How about I go into the extraction with you all?"

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes. Eames was pulling the IV out of his arm, and Yusuf was hovering, worriedly.

"Well?"

"I killed him."

"Your projection?"

"Yes."

Eames looked impressed. "I knew you had it in you, Artie."

Arthur managed a half smile. "Thanks."

"So whats the problem?"

"It was only a projection." Arthur looked at the Forger.

Eames placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Trust yourself, Arthur. You can handle it."

Arthur turned away. "Yep."

A slightly awkward silence descended on the three men. None of them looked at the other. The door opened, and Cobb walked in. He nodded in greeting.

"I have some news," he waited until all three of them had made eye contact.

"What is it?" Eames' voice was questioning.

"Fran has offered to join the extraction."

"What, as in come into Jensen's subconscious with us?" Arthur sounded shocked. "Why?"

Cobb shrugged. "She says she wants to help us get the best result."

Arthur took a step forward. "And you said-?"

"I said I would discuss it with the team." Cobb bit back an angry retort. "She seems pretty tough and able to handle it."

"She's not going into help with the extraction." Arthur took a step forward. "Its to keep an eye on all of us, to make sure we can handle it."

"That may be part of it." Cobb met the Point Man's eyes. "Still, you're meeting with her tomorrow, 9am."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh really? Why?"

"Your psychometric assessment. You're inside man."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"So, how do you feel about being inside man?"

The Forger smiled at her. "Surprised. I was sure that Cobb would insist Arthur would take it. Then when he refused…" his voice trailed off.

* * *

Arthur's refusal had come as a shock. He'd faced the Extractor, and told him calmly that being inside man was something he didn't need to do. Cobb had looked astounded.

"But you- but you-"

"I think I can handle myself." The Point Man had answered, coolly. "I don't need to prove anything. Besides, Eames has got more experience of the criminal world, and in terms of looks, he'll fit right in."

Cobb's jaw sagged slightly. Eames smirked. "Your backhanded compliments are thoroughly appreciated, Arthur."

"Don't mention it." The Point Man turned away. Cobb, his face tightening, walked after him.

"Arthur, what the hell is going on?" He demanded. "You wanted to do this, now you're saying Eames instead? What are you playing at?"

"I don't need to go inside," Arthur's tone was cool. "I can pretend to be Eames' lawyer, and pick up the information he gives me and bring it back."

Cobb stared after him. Then he shook his head.

"Oh, ok, its all noted. Eames does have more knowledge of what is required to survive inside." But then his face hardened slightly again. "Arthur, I have to warn you. You're in danger of turning into a real liability at present. The only reason you're still on this case is because of Ariadne. That's all."

Arthur shrugged. "Noted."

* * *

"But you still accepted?"

"Yes."

Fran jotted down a note on her pad. "Right. We need to get you fed into the prison by the end of the week. Whats your cover story?"

Eames looked at the psychiatrist. "That I've tried – and nearly succeeded – to commit an armed robbery, and shot two people."

"And how are you planning to work your way through the hierarchy?"

"By listening. And waiting."

"Do you think you'll be able to handle being with violent offenders, Eames?"

"Oh, yes." The Forger caught her eye, and smiled. "Perfectly. I'm to try and get to know Jensen. Feed back any information to Arthur – who will be posing as my lawyer – in order to try and see if we can nail the killer. Go into Jensen's mind to extract, and then-"

"Then what?"

"Hand it over to the police."

She smiled. "They might not believe you."

Eames shrugged. "They believe Jensen, doctor. I'm sure they'll believe us."

* * *

"Arthur!" Ariadne hurried after him as he turned to leave the warehouse, his laptop slung over his shoulder in its bag and files in his arms. "Wait up!"

The Point Man looked over his shoulder. When he saw her, he smiled. "Hey."

"Can we talk?"

Arthur licked his bottom lip. "Yes, but not here. There's a little coffee place a few minutes drive from here."

She smiled. "OK. I'm buying."

Cobb watched the interaction from the other side of the room. Trying hard to suppress a surge of irritation, he turned back to his work.

Ariadne looked up as the waitress placed two americanos on the table. "Thank you."

Arthur dumped two spoonfuls of sugar in his, and pushed the bowl over to her. "Here."

"Thanks." She concentrated on measuring out the tiny white granules, trying to avoid looking at the Point Man. He took a sip of his Americano.

"Why have you told Eames to be inside man?"

Arthur looked at her, wondering how much courage it had taken for her to ask. "I think Eames has – more insider knowledge already." The humour was lost on the Arcihtect, who looked at him, questioningly.

"Arthur, I don't understand how you're behaving on this case." She sipped her coffee and looked at the table. "You said you'd protect me; then you decide to be inside man. Then you threaten to leave the case…"

"Yes, and Cobb told me that it was only because of you threatening to walk he's let me back on it." Arthur put his cup down. "I'm aware that it's down to you. I'm aware that Cobb doesn't need me for this. I'm only here to do the research, keep my mouth shut, and make sure we get a conclusion as soon as possible."

Ariadne looked at him, her expression one of shock. "Arthur, I-"

"Look I said I'd protect you, and I will." He interrupted her, his tone brusque. "But, Ari, the things that were done to her-" his voice trailed off.

"Which is why we're doing this." Her voice was quiet, but forceful. "To make sure it doesn't happen again."

"What if it already has?" Arthur leaned forward, his expression darkening. "What if the killer has already got hold of somebody else? What if we're actually chasing someone who has killed again, and again since? What if this case isn't just finding the location of one body, but finding several? And what if you go into Jensen's head, and it turns him on? Turns him on enough-" he shivered, and was unable to finish the sentence.

"Does it turn you on?"

Arthur looked at her in shock. "What?"

"Is the reason you wanted to quit this case because-" Ariadne seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "Is it because you're worried that this case might make you want to-"

Arthur looked at her, his face paling. "You don't think I'm like that?"

"No, I don't." She took another sip of coffee. "But do you?"

Arthur rubbed his face with his hand. "Ari, I don't know what to think. All I know is that in the last few days I've had an extraction performed on me by a psychiatrist, I've been told on my last life with Cobb, and I've made a promise to you that I need to keep. But, I wish we'd never agreed to this case. I think its even more of a mistake than Fischer. We don't know what we're going to find. And I think Cobb's reasons for doing this are personal and ones he has no business pulling the rest of us into."

Ariadne looked at him. "Arthur-"

Arthur smiled sadly at the Architect. "It's the end, Ari. End of our team, end of mine and Dom's friendship." He took another sip of Americano. "Lets just make sure its not the end of our collective sanity as well, ok?"

* * *

The bell to the apartment rang. Eames looked up, and went to the door. Peering through the spyhole, he opened it when he saw Cobb.

"Hey," the Extractor seemed uncomfortable.

"Come in," Eames showed him in.

"Is Arthur here?"

"No, and I've had no message. Have a seat."

Cobb sat. He looked at the Forger. "Do you know why he's suddenly changed his mind about being Inside man?"

Eames shrugged. "No idea. Maybe he thinks I'll be better at nicking drugs." He saw Cobb's expression waver. "Bad joke." He pulled out a cigarette.

"Eames," Cobb paused. "are we doing the right thing with this case?"

Eames exhaled. "Do you think we're doing the right thing, Dom?"

The Extractor swallowed.

"No. But I'm not going to refuse the Caddicks now."


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur drove. His mind was buzzing, and he couldn't keep track of the road. The car swerved, and he narrowly missed a blue sedan.

"Shit!" He swore, and tried to keep focused. He knew that when he got back to his apartment, he'd be bombarded with questions by Eames. As he drove into the parking lot, he started thinking how he could prevent an interrogation.

Unlocking the door, he sniffed the air. Food. "Eames?"

"Oh, there you are!" The Forger sounded cheerful. "I ordered Chinese food for us. I was about to serve myself and put your portion in the oven."

"Good thing I got here then," Arthur commented wryly. Putting his laptop bag down, he walked into the lounge diner.

Eames handed him a plate. "Here." He began scooping rice onto his plate.

A few minutes later, both men were seated in the living room, eating Moo Shu Pork, sesame noodles, and spare ribs. Eames didn't look at Arthur while they ate; Arthur looked at the floor.

After a few minutes more, Eames spoke.

"So, are you going to explain yourself now, then?"

Arthur looked at the Forger. "Excuse me?"

"Why you no longer want to be inside man. You made such a bloody fuss – and then, just as Cobb hands it to you, you decide, oh, I don't want it."

Arthur speared a piece of rib. "Its not like that."

"Then what is it like? This case, frankly, is a mess." Eames popped a water chestnut in his mouth and chewed contemplatively. "First, we have you needing a shrink to come in, then you decide you want to go into jail, then you decide you don't. We have Cobb who is now beginning to wonder if we should still go through with this. Whats going on, Arthur?"

"I think-" Arthur paused. "I just think you'd be a better inside man. You can talk to people, get information out of them. You can pass it on to me as I'll be posing as your lawyer."

"Why did you want to be inside man?"

"I just wanted to show that I can be -" He paused. "I can handle myself."

"We all know that, Artie."

"Yes, but-" Arthur struggled to find the words. "Ariadne wanted me to protect her. I can't do that inside. And I wondered if she would need-"

"Protection from you?"

"Yes." Arthur looked at the Forger. "Eames, just go in, get the information, pass it onto me, and lets perform the extraction."

"You want to?"

"Yes."

"OK, I'll be going in at the end of the week."

Arthur nodded. "OK. Then we find out what happened, and we can just all go our separate ways."

"OK." Eames popped a mushroom into his mouth. "There is one thing we can do first, though."

"Whats that?"

"The gay bar. See if our friend 'John' is there."

Arthur looked at Eames, questioningly. "You think we can find out more information?"

"I do. Finish eating, get changed, and lets go."

* * *

Cobb stopped at her apartment. He steeled himself, and pushed the buzzer.

Her voice came out of the intercom. "Hello?"

"Dr Roberts? Dom Cobb. I'd really like to talk to you."

* * *

The bar was crowded. Despite being half concealed by Eames, Arthur felt conspicuous in his tight jeans and t-shirt. He took a swallow of beer and scanned the crowd.

Eames was leaning on the bar. "See him?"

"No." Arthur took another swallow. "And why in the world are you wearing that?"

Eames grinned. He was wearing a black shirt, which he'd left unbuttoned to his mid chest. "Thought I'd get them interested, darling. Of course, if you ran your hand down my chest, you'd get them all go-"

Arthur glared. "No way."

"Oh, all right." The Forger sighed with exasperation. "Lets go out and mingle."

Arthur took a step forward. The air was oppressive. Sighing, he turned, only to come face to face with a man he'd never seen before. He smiled at Arthur.

"Leaving already?" The voice had a teasing edge to it.

Arthur swallowed. "Its getting a bit late."

"That's the best part."

Arthur tried to look over the man's head for Eames, but realised the Forger had disappeared from view. Swallowing, he looked at the stranger again.

"You know, that's a nice shirt." The tone was casual.

Arthur looked at the stranger. "Thank you."

"But I reckon it would look even better on my floor."

Arthur blinked. "Did you just say-"

"Yes, I know. Bad." The stranger smiled again. "But when I see a guy as attractive as you, I tend to come out with really stupid shit."

Arthur licked his lip. "Well, my name's Aaron."

"Aaron. Nice. I'm Rafe."

A jolt of electricity went through Arthur. His heart started to pound. "Well, its good to meet you. Listen, I think my boy-"

Rafe leaned forward and grabbed his arm. "Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"That you have a boyfriend. I don't care. I don't want to marry you, I just want to fuck you. Hard. Lets go."

Arthur looked at Rafe. "No, I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't." Arthur shook his hand off. "I'm attached. And you're attractive, but I'm not into casual sex, thanks."

"Pity." Rafe smiled. "I know some tricks that could give you the bends. Oh well. Win some, lose some."

Rafe melted away in the crowd, and Arthur found himself trembling. He walked towards the exit, longing for some fresh air.

Eames looked around the crowd for Arthur. Puzzled, he pushed his way through the seething men until he reached the exit.

"Art?" The Point Man was white faced. "You ok."

Arthur swallowed. "No. I'm not."

"What happened?"

"Oh, I just got propositioned." He met Eames' eyes. "By the possible killer."


	21. Chapter 21

**Discliamer: Inception does not belong to me, all readers and reviews appreciated, many thanks.**

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Eames nodded. "Perfectly, Doc."

Fran looked at him. "Remember. You're going into the secure wing. I am your visiting shrink; Arthur your visiting lawyer. Dom is going to be your half-brother."

Eames swallowed. "Right. Got you."

They were standing near the entrance of the correctional facility. The stark building loomed above them, a brooding, rotting hulk. The fences were smothered in barbed wire, and Eames could see the armed guards dotted around on their watch towers, poised and ready to strike.

"What are you going to do in their?"

"Aside from teach them how to win at Poker? Get to know Jensen. Find out how we can best trace the killer. Get him to trust me. Then, we swoop in, perform the extraction, and I get to get out of this really lovely grey outfit. And I thought it would be orange. Damn."

Fran smiled, wryly. "Good luck, Eames."

"Thank you, doctor. Oh, one last thing-"

"Yes?"

"Dinner, when I get out?"

She smiled. "If you insist."

He winked at her. "I do."

"Save that for the marriage ceremony," she commented, and gave Eames a tap. "Right. Your welcoming committee is over there. Good luck."

* * *

Arthur sat in the Warehouse, trying not to think. He checked his watch; Eames was going into the prison. He reached for his coffee cup, and took a long swallow.

He still remembered the last time they'd gone to the bar. Rafe. He shivered. The man had been so calm, so matter of fact. He'd eyes Arthur as though he were a piece of prime steak, and the look in those dark eyes had told Arthur that this was a man used to getting what he wanted. His hair had been dark, falling to his shoulders.

Eames had been slightly less shocked than Arthur expected.

"So his name was Rafe," he'd responded. "Doesn't mean he's the killer. In fact, it means nothing, Arthur. All we know is that 'John' was propositioned by Mikey, whose boyfriend seems to have a few predilections in common with the killer. Doesn't mean that this Rafe is the killer."

"it was the way he looked at me…" Arthur's voice trailed off.

"Looked at you how?"

"As though I was just a piece of meat." The Point Man looked at the Forger.

Eames had taken a swallow of Scotch. "Arthur. To the gay community, you're probably very attractive. It doesn't mean that he wanted to slice you up like meat, though."

Arthur had felt sick at this comment, and turned away. He blinked, and reached again for his coffee cup. An idea was forming. He took another swallow.

* * *

Cobb was waiting, anxiously, for Fran. She tapped on the window of the car. "Hey!"

He unlocked her door. "Hey yourself." He paused, and looked at her. "So, did he go in ok?"

"Yep. I think he's just being frisked now."

Cobb couldn't suppress a wry smile. "Something tells me its not the first time."

"No." She looked at the Extractor. "How are you feeling, Dom?"

Cobb shook his head. "To be honest, I don't know. Arthur's decided to go ahead with the extraction; Eames has gone inside. But, I think this is the end for the team. I've accepted it. I don't regret what I've chosen to do. But I do regret what could happen."

She raised her eyebrows. "You still had time to stop it."

"I know." He rubbed his forehead. "But I still feel that family deserves an explanation. If it were my daughter…" his voice trailed off.

"Yes, I know." She turned to Cobb. "You just have to hope that eventually, your team sees it this way."

Cobb nodded. "I hope."

* * *

"Raise your arms."

Eames complied with the barked instructions, trying not to think about the large male warden patting down his body. He held his arms out to the side.

"Right. No weapons. Nothing on you. Follow me."

Eames walked slowly; his ankles were shackled. As he followed the warden into the secure wing, he suddenly noticed how dark and dank the corridors were becoming. As another secure door was unbolted, the smell of dirty bodies and unflushed toilets hit him. He tried to suppress his gag reflex.

"Hey!" A loud voice echoed through the corridor. "Fresh meat!"

Eames kept his eyes perfectly straight ahead, not wanting to get into banter with any of the other inmates. He knew he would have time to get to know them, and also knew he needed to in order to survive.

A bearded, slightly leering face poked its way through the bars. "Hey, it's a pretty boy! Check him out!"

Eames kept his face expressionless, not responding. He couldn't help but be thankful that it was him in this position, and not Arthur. The Point Man would have been ripped apart in minutes, he thought wryly.

The warden stopped in front of a cell door. Taking a key, he unlocked it.

"You're in here. With him." He pushed the door open. "Jensen!" He barked. "Company! Get up!"

A small, thin man with sandy coloured hair rolled off one of the beds. He looked at Eames with disinterest bordering on insolence.

"Hey." He smiled. "Welcome to the Hilton."

* * *

Arthur swallowed his peppermint tea and glanced at the clock. This was his chance. Dressed in black jeans and t-shirt, he shrugged into his leather jacket. Grabbing his keys, he walked out to the parking lot.

As he drove to the bar, he was overcome with misgivings. Eames was inside, trying to get to know Jensen. He could try and get to know Rafe. The sooner they cleared up who Rafe was, the quicker they could perform the extraction and find out where Chandra Caddick was. Arthur tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Spotting the bar up ahead, he swerved and pulled into an empty space.

He paused, and took a deep breath. He pulled out his cell, and scrolled through contacts to find Cobb's number. He dialled. After a few rings, it went to voicemail.

"Dom? Arthur." He tried to keep his voice steady. "I'm following up a lead. I'll ring you as soon as I know anything. Speak to you soon." He clicked off, and put the phone in his pocket. Opening the door, he stepped out and walked to the entrance.

The guy at the ticket booth looked up. "Back again?"

"Yes." Arthur smiled.

"Not a problem. You contribute to the view. Five dollars." Arthur paid in cash and walked downstairs. The bar was smokier than previously, and the smell of pot hung in the air. He coughed, and walked to the bar.

The bartender came up. "Yeah?"

"Um…vodka. With ice."

"Sure thing." A few minutes later, a glass was produced. "Seven bucks."

"Allow me." A soft voice spoke. Turning, Arthur saw it was the man from the previous night. His dark hair was shoulder length, and his skin almost alabaster pale. He smiled at Arthur.

"You never miss a trick, Rafe." The bartender chuckled.

Rafe shrugged. "You see a beautiful stranger, he cuts you down. You hope he comes back. He does." He turned to Arthur. "It is good to see you again. Your bone structure kept me awake all night."

Arthur swallowed, and picked up the glass. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." That voice. "Just drink it."

Arthur took a sip. It burned a path to his stomach.

Rafe smiled. "Hope you like it."

* * *

Eames sat on the bed, looking at Jensen. The smaller man was looking at him.

"So…" Eaes began.

"So…" Jensen mimicked, then laughed. "Welcome to hell."

"Is it that bad?"

"Yep." Jensen rummaged in his shirt pocket for cigarettes and pulled them out. "Want one?"

"Won't say no."

"You're English."

"Yes."

"Why you here?"

"Armed robbery."

Jensen's eyebrows raised. "Really?" He lit his cigarette.

"What are you in here for?" Eames tried to speak casually.

Jensen smiled and sucked on the cigarette. He exhaled.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

* * *

"I guess you didn't bring your boyfriend." Rafe's voice was soft.

"No." Arthur took another swallow. "I didn't."

"Good thinking. Have you finished?"

Arthur drained his glass. "Have now."

Rafe raised his eyebrows, suggestively. "I have a better vintage of that at my place. How about it? I won't tell if you won't."

Arthur paused. He then thought of Ariadne, and how doing this might prevent her being exposed any further to this hideous case.

"Sounds good," he looked at the other man. "Lets go."

Rafe smiled. A smile that did not reach his eyes. "Now you're talking."


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"So…Eames is inside now?" Ariadne moved her glass around. It left a wet ring on the coffee table.

"Yep." Cobb took a swallow of Scotch. "He is, and sharing a cell with our mark. Hopefully, he'll get whatever's in his head loose, so we don't have to go too deep."

Ariadne licked her top lip. "I brought my designs over again. I've created this for the first layer." She proferred Cobb a blueprint – he picked it up.

"This looks excellent," he said, impressed. "But don't show me too much!"

She smiled. "I won't. I'm not even going to show Arthur!"

Cobb smiled wryly. "Possibly for the best." He frowned and checked his watch. "I should give him a call, let him know whats happened."

"Wasn't he with you for the set up?"

"No. He said he had some things to do at the Warehouse." Cobb swirled his scotch in the glass, watching as the amber liquid caught the light. "You know Arthur. Such a perfectionist."

* * *

"Mine or yours?" Rafe laughed huskily.

Arthur swallowed. "How about mine?"

"Good call." Rafe shrugged. "I'll let you drop me off here in the morning."

Arthur nodded and led Rafe to his car. He unlocked, and the other man slid into the passenger seat.

Arthur got in, and put the key in the ignition. "Where are we driving to?"

Palmer Drive. Its about fifteen minutes away." He looked at Arthur and grinned. "You know, I don't even know your name."

Arthur stiffened. "Its-"

"Actually," Rafe leaned forward, and put a hand on Arthur's knee. "I don't want to know. I think I'll call you Bambi. Those eyes, those legs-" his gaze swept appreciatively over Arthur's lower half – "you're like a fawn, all delicate. Plus, there's-" he broke off, chuckling.

Arthur looked at him. "There's what?"

"The fact you act like a frightened little deer and I'm the big bad wolf." Rafe ran his hand up and down Arthur's thigh. "You're safe with me. Trust me. I won't tell that ape you had with you about this if you won't."

Arthur flinched. "He's not that bad."

"Then why are you with me?" The voice had a teasing chuckle in it, and as if to underline his point, Rafe leaned forward and started grazing Arthur's cheek with his lips. "I just want to make you cum. That's all."

Swallowing, Arthur turned the key, and put his foot on the accelerator. Rafe settled back in his seat, and was silent for the duration of the drive. Arthur kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to cast a glance at the man or do anything to excite suspicion.

To his surprise, Palmer Drive looked wealthy, and suburban. Rafe stirred in his seat as they entered.

"Straight ahead," he gestured with a finger. "It's the block at the end of the road. I'll get out and press the entry buttons for the gate."

Ten minutes later, Arthur had parked and was following Rafe into his block. He straightened his shoulders, as they climbed the stairs. When they reached the third floor, Rafe walked until they reached no. 17.

"Here we are."

The door was unlocked. Arthur was surprised to see a comfortable, well-furnished apartment, with fittings chosen by a man who had taste and money. Rafe led him into the lounge, and switched on a couple of free standing lamps.

"Music?"

"Yes," Arthur replied. He was studying every aspect of the apartment, looking for anything unusual.

Rafe pressed a button on an expensive looking stereo, and the strains of the Sneaker Pimps floated out of the speakers. "I love this English trip hop stuff," he explained. "Its so…sexy."

Arthur nodded. "Pretty cool."

"Indeed." Rafe walked over to Arthur, peeling off his jacket. His white top clung to him, whilst his leather jeans were beginning to bulge around his crotch. He pressed up close to the Point Man, who tried hard to mask how he felt. As he was drawn into an embrace, Arthur closed his eyes, wishing it was Ariadne he was holding.

Rafe's hands slid down Arthur's back. "Nice jeans." He whispered. "They make your ass look…amazing."

"Mmm," Arthur couldn't think of a response.

"You're not very relaxed."

"I guess I'm just…" Arthur's voice trailed off. He was suddenly beginning to realise the enormity of the situation. Rafe was beginning to slide a hand down to his groin, and before he could stop him, the Point Man felt his crotch being handled.

Quickly, he disengaged himself from the embrace. "Listen, I'm not very-"

"Loose." Rafe finished. "Don't worry. I've got something for that." He disappeared.

Arthur swallowed. He had to get out. But he realised that he didn't know the code for the gate. He looked over at his leather jacket. His gun was tucked discreetly into a side pocket. He walked over, intending to pull it out.

"Hey, Bambi. Look what I've got!"

Arthur turned. Rafe was holding a small mirror, with two lines of white powder on it. Smiling, he handed Arthur a rolled up bank note.

"Sniff up, baby. You need a hit."

Arthur blanched. "I'm not into-"

Rafe's eyes met his. "What?"

"I've never taken coke before."

Rafe shrugged. "First time for everything, Bambi. Come on. Its simple." Holding the banknote to his nose, he snorted up one of the lines. Wiping it off his nose, he rubbed the residue into his gums.

"Mmm, that's better."

Arthur looked at Rafe. "I'm not into this. I'm not taking it."

"Oh, aren't you?" The tone was slightly mocking. "I beg to differ. Or do you want me to come home with you while you tell that gorilla where you've been this evening?"

"That's a little childish, don't you think?"

"And teasing me isn't?" Rafe's eyes were cold, Arthur realised. "Take the cocaine. Or-"

"Or you'll what?"

Rafe merely smiled.

Fighting a feeling of helplessness, Arthur leaned and took the banknote. Pressing it to his nose, he flipped the mirror so the powder fell on the floor. He smiled at Rafe.

"Sorry. Like I said, I'm really not into this."

Rafe's eyes narrowed. Suddenly, his fist shot out in a punch. Arthur dodged, spinning around on his heel so he ended up behind the man, and looped his arm around his neck.

"Like I said, I'm not into drugs." Arthur spoke between gritted teeth. He pulled his arm more tightly around Rafe's neck. "Accept it!"

"That-was-" Rafe was choking out the words. Arthur lessened his grip. The other man started to cough. Arthur seized his chance, and let go, moving for his gun.

Suddenly, he fell face down. The other man had thrust out a leg, and tripped him.

"That was a $100 worth of coke, you son-of-a-bitch." The words were spat out, and Arthur gasped, winded from hitting the wooden floor. Rafe pulled him over on to his back, and straddled him, squeezing his sides with his thighs.

"Oh, Bambi," he said coquettishly, "you are a bad boy." His fingers moved towards Arthur's flies.

"Don't," Arthur raised himself up on his elbows.

"Oh really?" Rafe laughed. "Listen, you're on the floor, between my legs. And I'm about to get between yours."

"I'm not into this," Arthur struggled to sit up.

"What?" Rafe narrowed his eyes. "Not into what?"

Arthur swallowed. "Look. This was a mistake. Let me go, and no-one need ever know."

"Oh, you're right no-one will ever know." Rafe laughed, a tense, mocking sound. "Because no-one knows you're here, do they?"

Suddenly, Arthur realised he was right. He cursed himself for having left such a vague message to Cobb. Rafe raised a fist. Arthur's eyes widened, and he reached up to grab it, but the other man smacked him in the face, causing him to reel back.

"Night night," he whispered, and suddenly, everything went black.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Of course I'll see you soon, honey. Of course I miss you."

Cobb paused, listening to his daughter's response. Ever since they had started working on this case, the distance between him and his children was getting harder to bear. Phillippa murmured a response, and he smiled.

"Well, you be good for Grandma and Grandpa, ok? I'll call you again tomorrow. I love you too, sweetie. Sleep tight."

The phone clattered into the hook, and Cobb looked at his watch. 9pm – not too late, he could still peruse the file. He wondered idly how Eames was coping in a secure prison. He smiled to himself; the Forger was properly running a gambling den and charming the wardens by now.

Cobb moved towards the kitchen. A cup of coffee seemed like a good idea. As he spooned the beans into the grinder, he became aware of a loud knocking on the front door.

"Hang on!" He moved towards it, and peered through the peephole. As soon as he saw Arthur, he unlatched and swung it open.

"Hey."

"Hi." Despite his suit, there was an air of dishevelment about the Point Man. Cobb looked at him, closely.

"Can I come in?"

"I'm not going to turn you away." As he stepped back to let Arthur walk through, Cobb cleared his throat. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you."

Cobb walked back into the kitchen. The Point Man was hovering by the doorframe.

"Art." He spoke firmly. "Go and sit down. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"OK." Arthur nodded consent, and walked back into the living room.

* * *

Eames looked at the prone figure on the other bunk. He stretched, wondering how long it was going to take to get Jensen to open up.

The smaller man was taciturn, and did not seem in the slightest bit interested in why he had a new cellmate. He was sprawled on his narrow bunk, one arm dangling off the edge. He snored, and spittle formed at the corner of his mouth. Eames rummaged for a cigarette; he needed a smoke badly.

Jensen licked his lip, and coughed in his sleep. Eames lit up. Thank God for nicotine. This was going to be a long night.

Suddenly, his ears pricked up. Jensen was starting to moan.

* * *

"Here you go." Cobb plonked a mug of steaming liquid in front of Arthur.

"Thanks." He picked the mug up and took a sip.

"So whats going on?" Cobb sat down. His tone was curious, and Arthur could feel the animosity that still lingered between them starting to melt.

"You know I went to the warehouse this afternoon?"

"Yes, while Fran and I were dropping Eames at the prison. What about it?"

Arthur licked his top lip. "I put myself under again this afternoon. For ten minutes."

Cobb took a swallow of coffee. "What for?"

Arthur looked at the Extractor. "Well, you know Eames and I were staking out a gay bar-"

"Yes?" Cobb looked at Arthur. "And?"

"Well, we think – or, I think – we found the potential killer. He practically propositioned me."

Cobb took a gulp of coffee. "I see."

"I wanted to see how I could react. So, when you and Fran were with Eames this afternoon, I went to the warehouse, and went under. I put myself back in the bar, and he was a projection."

"What happened?"

Arthur shook his head. "I lost it. In the dream, we went to his place, he offered me cocaine, I tried to get away, he overpowered me – I woke up when he hit me."

He shuddered. He'd felt dazed when his eyes opened, and his heart had been pounding. He'd steadied his breathing before removing the iv, and needed to splash water on his face to cool his blood. He'd sat there, worrying at his totem, reminding himself he was back in reality.

"It was a dream, Arthur." Cobb's voice was calm.

"But its getting worse." Arthur leaned back. "I thought that after Fran did that extraction, I'd be ok. But there I go, in my own dream, in my own mind, and my projection overpowers me."

"You built the dream from a memory." Cobb shook his head. "Arthur. You're going to lose track of what is real, and what isn't."

"I know." Arthur rubbed his face. "I know. I just – where are these projections coming from in my subconscious?"

"What if its you whose the projection?"

"What?" Arthur blinked.

"It seems you're worried about a – " Cobb paused – " a dark side of you that could come out. Are you sure than in the projection, he was the dark side of you? And you were-"

"Ariadne?" Arthur blinked. "Because subconsciously I see her as the potential victim?"

"Maybe. You're the predator, but you see her as the prey."

Arthur put his head in his hands. "What do I do, Dom? I told her I'd protect her, keep her safe-"

"I know." Cobb looked at the Point Man. "Arthur, stop it. Stop doing this. I feel like this case isn't just about finding a body, its about you finding whats buried inside of you."

"Are you saying I think I could be a killer?" Arthur looked at Cobb.

"No. I'm saying you're worried about what you could be. That's why you wanted to be inside man, wasn't it? To prove to yourself that you're not like them."

Arthur swallowed. "Yes." It was barely a whisper.

* * *

Eames was watching Jensen like a hawk. The man was snoring, and gasping. Eames sucked on his cigarette, surprised the acrid smell hadn't woken him. Stubbing it in the small metal ashtray, he reached for another.

"No!" He suddenly spoke. Eames froze, fingers curled around his cigarette. "Don't do that! No – she's dying! Fuck man!"

Eames leaned back on the pillows, his heart starting to accelerate. Jensen rolled over, and turned his face to the wall.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur checked his watch. He had been left waiting in the cold holding room for nearly 30 minutes. He shivered, and pulled his jacket tighter round him. He was beginning to wish he'd worn a v neck sweater underneath, but had reasoned that that would make him look like a naïve, inexperienced trainee. At least in a suit with a buttoned up vest, he felt he had some gravitas. With a briefcase, he looked, he felt, like a lawyer.

A warden came, and looked at a list. "Mr Ogilvie?"

Arthur stood up. "Yes."

"Eames is this way. May I remind you, you are not to attempt to pass anything – blades, bullets, gum, pencils – anything that could be feasibly used as a weapon to him. If you do, we will arrest you. Understand?"

Arthur nodded, tensely. The warden pressed a buzzer, and grill door slid open. He walked down the hallway, his hand worrying at his totem.

Eames was sitting behind a double sided desk. His eyes were bloodshot, Arthur noted, and his face looked slightly thinner. There was a slight odour around him – sweat and cigarettes. Despite trying, Arthur couldn't stop his face wrinkling up slightly in disgust.

As he sat down, Eames smiled. There was a look of relief on his face that Arthur had never seen before.

Swallowing, Arthur picked up the phone on his side of the panel. Before he could even open his mouth, Eames spoke.

"Artie!" His tone was almost jovial. "Its so good to see you!"

Arthur blinked. He hadn't expected this.

"Oh, really?"

"Well, yes." Eames looked surprised. "Its very good to see a man who is actually dressed in something other than a pair of dungarees, who looks as if he shaves, and who I know showers at least twice a day." He sniffed the air. "Mmm. Dettox. Its so you!"

Arthur scowled. "I do not shower twice a day."

"Oh, yes, of course. Three times." Eames spoke breezily, as though this were a casual meeting. Arthur shifted in his chair.

"Well, what have you got for me?"

Eames leaned forward. "You'll never believe it." His voice was a whisper.

* * *

"Mrs Caddick," Cobb spoke reasonably. "I know it seems as though we're taking a long time, but this isn't something we can rush into."

Alice Caddick nodded. She and Cobb were sitting in the immaculate living room of the family home. The Extractor tried to look at his teacup, but her face – pleading and desperately sad – was tearing at his heart.

"Its been nearly two months, Mr Cobb." Her voice was quiet.

"I know." Cobb exhaled and put his cup down. "I know it seems as though we're taking a long time, and I apologise for that. But this is a difficult case. We have reason to believe-" he stopped, suddenly realising that his profound sympathy for the woman was leading him to reveal too much.

She turned to him. "You believe what?"

Cobb looked at her. "We have reason to believe that the man inside may not be your daughter's killer." She gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. "Mrs Caddick, did your daughter ever mention any other men she knew, who she may have been seeing?"

"My daughter-" Alice took a deep breath, her throat quivering. "My daughter was not seeing anyone, as far as I know. She was a good girl, Mr Cobb. She wasn't like – like that."

"Mrs Caddick." Cobb tried to make his tone kind. "I have a daughter. And I'm aware, that in ten years time, I will find her on the porch kissing some teenager with a bad haircut and an even worse car. And I know that he won't be fit to wipe her shoes. We all do it, as parents. We all see the good in our kids. I am not saying your daughter was-" he paused, unable to think of how to finish the sentence.

"My daughter was not." She whispered. "She agreed to go on a date with this man, and he killed her. Then he dumped her. You need to find her for me, Mr Cobb. Not deliver me sermons on parenting."

Cobb blinked, stunned. She got up.

"Just do your job, Mr Cobb." Her tone was cold. "Please."

Realising he had reached a dead end, Cobb got up to leave.

* * *

"What have you found out?" Arthur was being cagey. "Does he-" he paused, searching for a code word, and then found himself starting to blush slightly. "Jack off?"

Eames' jaw dropped. Then he started to grin.

"He jacks off – quite a bit." He drew in closer to the glass. "He whispers her name as he – jacks off, Arthur. And when he cums-" Eames paused for dramatic effect , and Arthur smacked his forehead – "he moans."

Arthur's eyebrows went up. "He moans."

"Oh, yes."

"Really loudly?"

"Yes. And-" Eames paused again, making Arthur realising he was enjoying this – "he wishes he could stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop what he was doing. He begs to stop. Begs, Arthur."

Arthur found his heart starting to accelerate. "Do you know what this means?"

"Yes." Eames was grinning from ear to ear. "It means you're not as prudish as I thought. I'll never feel embarrassed about you walking in on me in a hotel bathroom again!"

Arthur scowled. ""It means that the memories are still fresh in his mind. He's remembering in his-" Arthur let his voice drop, willing Eames to mentally fill in the blank.

"Yes." Eames' voice was soft. "Which means that he can be entered very easily."

"Eames!" Arthur groaned. "You always have to lower the tone!"

Eames looked hurt. "How rude. You were the one who started it. What happened, you finally discovered the porn stash I left under your bed?"

Arthur glared. "I don't need porn. I have a healthy imagination."

"I'm sure you do. I always thought – prim and proper point man by day, possibly a wild exhibitionist by night. Now, how far does your imagination extend to smuggling in some more cigs, some scotch – good quality mind – and some chewing gum?"

Arthur glared. "You want the impossible, you know that?"

"Absolutely." Eames said smoothly. "What are you going to tell Cobb?"

Arthur took a deep breath. The memory of his last experience was fresh.

"That clearly the time is ripe. We extract as soon as possible."


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Ariadne took a deep breath. She knew she had to open this, to find out what was going on.

She checked her watch. Arthur was out at the prison all day, trying to get information from Eames; Cobb was in another meeting with Fran. Swallowing, Ariadne flipped open Arthur's laptop, and switched it on.

After waiting impatiently for the machine to warm up, she started to click. She went straight to file, and then to "CaseCC". Clicking on it, she waited for the machine to begin downloading.

She started to read. Chandra Caddick, 24. Attractive and vivacious, she could tell from the digital photograph. A graduate of Columbia, and with an eye to studying for a doctorate. Lived at home "

She then came to the details of the case itself, and sucked her breath through her teeth. Michael Jensen, a chemical scientist, had admitted to asking Chandra on a date. He'd taken her for dinner, and then to a movie. On the way home, he'd gone to Collier Park, a popular spot among couples in the area.

He admitted that he'd tried to kiss her; she'd reciprocated. He then admitted that she/d protested, saying she didn't want to go any further. He then claimed that she'd tried to get out of the car, so he'd hit her. Hard.

Ariadne continued to read with a sickening feeling. He'd then got out of the car, and dragged her from it. When she'd struggled, he'd kicked her in the abdomen. He'd then half dragged her to a secluded area, where he'd straddled her. When she'd continued to protest, he'd torn her tights off and rammed them down her throat.

He'd raped her. Not content with that, he'd then hit her with a rock. A small knife he'd been carrying had also been used.

At this point, Jensen had refused to admit to anything else. He admitted to taking the body – but was not prepared to say where it was, or when it had been left.

Ariadne skimmed part of the police transcript:

"_Tell us where she is."_

"_She's in a better place. She's in a place where she can't be hurt anymore."_

"_Tell us where you dumped her."_

"_She's in a better place...she can't be hurt...she can't be hurt."_

"_Tell us where she is!"_

"_She's nowhere you'll find her…no-one anyone can find her…she's in a better place…a better place..a better place…"_

He'd repeated this, monotonously, according to the file. At one point, he'd refused to say anything else.

Ariadne felt sick. This was the man that they were going into the dreams of. And she'd asked Arthur to protect her. Shivering, she closed the files, and started to pull down the laptop lid.

She got up. And froze. Arthur was standing in front of her.

"Would you care to explain what you're doing, Ari?" His voice was pleasant, but there was an edge to it. She swallowed.

"I was..." she paused, unable to think of a plausible excuse. The Point Man's eyes were starting to narrow.

"Well," Arthur said, "I won't embarrass you any further. But if you are going to go into my files, its generally polite to ask."

He turned away. She looked after him, stunned. Then she found her courage.

"Why did you agree to this?" She blurted out.

"What?" He turned around.

"Why have you agreed to this case, Arthur? What that guy did!"

Arthur sank into a chair. He suddenly felt weary. "I felt I didn't have a choice." He picked up a pen and started bouncing it lightly on the desk.

"What do you mean, you didn't have a choice?" Ariadne's voice was becoming more urgent. "This guy – he's dangerous Arthur!"

Arthur nodded. "I know. Thank you."

"But – you didn't tell me!" Her voice was rising. "You told me that this could be a dangerous case, but you didn't tell me the full details of what he'd done!"

Arthur got up. "Who was it who called you for this job, Ariadne?" He demanded, his tone taking on a harsher element. "Not me. It was Cobb. I've had reservations about this case from the beginning. Its dealing with a psychotic!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was trembling.

He sighed, heavily. "Because I wasn't able to. Cobb had made up his mind. Simple as that."

"You could have stopped him!" Her voice was taking on an angry edge. "You don't have to do everything that Cobb tells you!"

"I don't do everything Cobb tells me!" He shouted at her, his voice escalating. "I don't agree with this myself, but have you tried arguing with him? Forget it!"

She blanched.

"If you don't want to go through with this, fine, no-one is going to force you. But don't you dare accuse me of tricking you into it!"

"I'm not!" She finally shouted at him. "But you just don't seem to realise-"

"Realise what?" His eyes flashed. "That we're going into a real heart of darkness? That we' could come back damaged? No, I know this very, very well. Cobb has no right to agree to this without going into the facts. But he did, and there we are, and nothing can change it now."

She blinked. "You think we can do this?"

Arthur looked at her. "We don't have a choice." He exhaled. "Ari. I will protect you as much as I can, you have my word. But that's no guarantee everything will be ok. And I'm sorry."

At that moment Arthur's cellphone began to vibrate. He pulled it out of his pocket and grimaced. "Cobb."

Ariadne nodded. "OK."

"Hello? Yes, it was interesting – very interesting. You're on your way? Alone? OK, see you in ten." He closed the phone and turned back to the Architect.

"What does he have to say?"

Arthur's eyes met hers. "Its not what he has to say. Its what I do."


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb drove back to the Warehouse, feeling more clear headed and focused. As he turned down the side street, he reached in his pocket for his cell. He needed to call Arthur, to find out what had transpired at the prison that morning. He had a hope that the extraction would be very soon.

Turning into the side street, he smiled. His doubts about the case were starting to melt away.

* * *

A loud banging on the grill door made Eames jump. "Exercise!" A loud voice barked. "Everyone out!"

Silently, Eames allowed himself to be led into the walled yard. He noted that the tribes among the prisoners had formed. A group of men immediately headed for the far court to play basketball; several others to a small area to lift weights. Not wanting to make himself conspicuous by pushing in, he decided to hang back, by the wall.

"Hey."

Eames looked up. A dark haired man had approached him. He was about Arthur's age, he estimated, but of a solid build. His eyes were green, and looked at Eames with curiosity.

"Hi," Eames decided to wait and see what the man had to say.

"You're in the cell with Jensen, aren't you?"

"Yes," Eames wondered where this would lead.

"You're lucky." The man looked at Eames, his eyes narrowing. "He's completely crazy. Rants and raves in his sleep. Talks about a girl he killed, once."

"I know." Eames couldn't resist baiting the man a little. "I share a cell with him, remember?"

The man swallowed. "He scared me when he first came. I hate rapists, I hate murderers."

"What are you in for?"

The man grinned. "I shot my brother-in-law."

Eames' eyebrows went up. "I guess you didn't like him."

"No." The man sat down on the wall. Eames began to wonder if there would be a point to this conversation.

"Jensen-" the man began, then stopped.

"Yes?" Eames turned, deciding he needed to keep this going. "Jensen what?"

"Jensen told me once he was innocent. That his boyfriend killed her."

Eames started. "Really?"

"Yeah." The man looked uncomfortable. "Doesn't make sense. Why kill a girl if you're fucking a guy? Doesn't make sense, man."

Eames swallowed. The sun was warm, and felt pleasant on his face. He gritted his teeth. Despite the fragmentedness of the man's ramblings, he knew that if he waited, he would get what he wanted.

He turned to him. "Would you like a cigarette?"

The man smiled. "Hey, you got manners man. Don't mind if I do."

Eames handed him one, and flicked his lighter. The guard had grudgingly given him one, warning him that misuse would mean a ban.

"My pleasure."

* * *

Arthur ran through his files. He was furious with himself for not passcode protecting the material, and furious with Ariadne for looking in them. But the real target of his anger was the Extractor, who, he now realised, had never fully disclosed to the Architect the real story behind the murder.

He got up. Walking to the kitchenette, he flicked the switch on the kettle. He was reaching for the filter papers when suddenly he heard Cobb's voice.

"Arthur? Anyone here?"

Swallowing, Arthur moved into the centre of the room. "I'm here."

"Good." Cobb looked at him, his expression searching. "What did you get out of Eames?"

"Ariadne knows what really happened to Chandra Caddick." He glared at the Extractor. "She's pretty upset."

Cobb looked at him. "You told her."

Arthur looked at Cobb, his anger starting to build. "No, I did not. She was looking through my computer files."

"You left them unprotected." The Extractor's jaw started to sag. "Arthur, how the hell could you do this? You know how sensitive this case is!"

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" Arthur's anger was beginning to spill out. "Why didn't you tell her the full story? Why did you lie to her?"

"I didn't lie, Arthur." Cobb was trying to keep his own temper under control. "I just didn't feel the need to tell her the full truth. We don't necessarily need her to fully go in!"

"She's the Architect!" Arthur roared at him, his eyes starting to flash. "She creates the world we dream! How can we go into a scenario like that, with no Architect? Are you really thinking this through? Or have the Caddicks offered you such a huge payoff that you'll do anything?"

"Don't you dare-" Cobb practically spat out the words – "don't you dare accuse me of only doing this for them money!"

"Then what are we doing it for?" Arthur demanded. "So far, I've nearly lost it, you've lied to Ariadne – Dom, we are going into something that is too dangerous! None of us know whats down there!"

"We'll be careful." Cobb's voice was firm. "It'll be fine."

Arthur walked towards him. "What if its not?"

"Then we'll deal with it." Cobb turned his back to him. "What did you get out of Eames?"

Arthur blinked, amazed at how quickly Cobb could change the subject. "Eames is…convinced that Jensen talks about it in his sleep."

Cobb turned. "Really?"

"Yes." Arthur looked at him. "So we might want to do the extraction as quickly as possible. Its still fresh in his mind. We can just go in, find out the truth, and then take it from there."

"OK." Cobb looked at him. "Are you sure?"

"No." Arthur looked at Cobb. "But I want this done as soon as possible. Its just not worth the risk anymore."

"Arthur." Cobb's voice was low. "After we find out what happened…"

Arthur looked at him. "You can take it to the Caddicks. Its your call."

Eames smiled. The man had smoked his cigarette. He smiled at the Forger. "Thanks."

"No problem." Eames looked at him. "You were saying…?"

"Oh, yeah, Jensen. Crazy dude. Likes men."

"Mmm."

"His boyfriend killed a girl, he says."

"Mmm."

"Yeah. Says his name was-"

A whistle was blown. "Everyone inside!"

"Wait!" Eames called after him. "What was his name?"

The man shrugged. "Rafe."


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews are very much appreciated, with thanks. **

"Are you ready?"

Arthur looked up. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The Extractor nodded. "Good, come on. We need to meet Ariadne."

The Point Man shouldered his black case bag. "I've checked everything. Double checked."

"I knew you would."

The two men walked down the stairs, heading for the outer door. Arthur then spoke.

"What is Fran doing, exactly?"

"She's going to request Jensen comes in for a session, then Eames. Jensen will be sedated, and then we can begin."

Arthur looked at Cobb as they reached the foot of the stairwell. "And the guards won't suspect anything?"

Cobb smiled knowingly. "I think Fran has it all sewn up."

* * *

Another loud clang on the door made Eames wince. He rolled over in his bunk; the lack of sleep and living in such primitive conditions was beginning to get to him. He longed for a shower with privacy. He longed to eat food that was actually hot and tasted of something. He was even longing to hold an intelligent exchange of barbs with Arthur.

Eames had not spoken to Jensen for the best part of 24 hours. The man spent most of his time either asleep, or staring blankly at the wall. He never objected to Eames smoking in the cell, but the Forger had rationalised that the man was a shell.

Except when he slept. When he was asleep, an almost possession seemed to grip him. Eames had lain awake, listening to Jensen gurgle and cry out. He couldn't ignore it – not because of the volume, but because of the fear he detected. Jensen was haunted, and every night, he allowed Eames to be a casual bystander in his nightmare.

A key scraped and grated in the lock. Eames' ears pricked up.

"Jensen!" A warden barked. "Your shrink is here! Smile nicely for the lady, won't you!"

Eames sat bolt upright. His shrink?

"The sign," he muttered, and sank back onto the threadbare mattress, wincing as he felt the slats in the bed.

* * *

Fran looked at her watch. She had exactly forty minutes. Swallowing, she moved to her bag, where inside was the necessary little bottle of pills.

"Two of you," she muttered under her breath, unscrewing the cap and shaking them into her hand. She went to the tiny sink of the prison office, and filled a glass with water.

She heard shuffling footsteps, accompanied by more efficient ones in the hallway. He was almost here.

* * *

"You know," Cobb said carefully as he navigated some snarled up traffic, "if you still have doubts, Arthur, I'd like you to tell me."

The Point Man sighed.

"There is no point. Because you've still got your mind made up." Cobb cast him a glance out of the corner of his eye. Arthur was looking fixedly out of the window, and refusing to acknowledge the Extractor.

Cobb decided to pause before speaking. "I know I can't argue with you on that, but you've had all the apologies you're getting."

"Thanks." A heavy silence fell, and Cobb was unsure whether to try a conversational tack again or just let it lie. Then, to his surprise, Arthur spoke.

"I'm thinking of going away for a few days after this is finished." He spoke almost casually.

"That would be nice for you," Cobb responded. "Where would you go?"

"Somewhere warm and sunny." Silence. Then "I'm thinking of asking Ariadne if she'd like to go with me."

Cobb gripped the steering wheel harder. "Arthur, I had no idea you-"

"No idea what?" The Point Man's face was beginning to close up again.

"That you and Ari-"

"Look, it would be two friends going away for a few days." Arthur was beginning to glare at the Extractor. "I think she could use a break, and so could I."

Cobb shrugged. "Whatever you say." He smiled to himself as he saw Arthur blush slightly.

Arthur cleared his throat. "The turnoff for Ariadne's place is approaching."

"Indeed it is. Lets go."

* * *

Fran smiled – a bland, professional one- at the figure hunched in front of her. Despite her carefully manicured façade, she couldn't deny that he made her skin crawl.

"How are you, Michael?"

"I'm Ok, thanks doc."

She cleared her throat. "How is your sleeping?"

"Can't sleep, doc. Keep thinking about it. About her. What happened."

"Michael-" she chose her words carefully – "the fact you keep dreaming indicates you're haunted by what you did. If you never told anyone the truth, maybe its time you did."

The man slouched further in his chair. "Can't do that."

She smiled. "Just try. Talk to me."

He shrugged. "Its…difficult." He was starting to sweat. Fran checked her watch. 20 minutes.

"Listen, its very warm in here." She spoke kindly. "Would you like some water?"

"Please, doc. That'd be good."

Fran got up, and walked over to the sink where the two sedatives had been steadily dissolving in the glass. No trace of them was left. She picked it up, and handed it to Jensen, who downed it in one gulp.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," wincing as the words left her mouth. The last person she'd ever consider welcome was the accomplice to a rape-murderer. She paused.

"So, listen. What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, there's a new…" Jensen's voice was starting to trail off. He was sinking further down the chair.

"A new what?"

"Its…" he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "Its…" within a few more minutes, his eyes had closed, and he had slumped completely.

Fran stood up, and looked at him dispassionately. "Sweet dreams," she murmured.

* * *

Ariadne got out of the car and looked around uncertainly. Arthur and Cobb followed, slamming their doors.

"Right, lets go." Cobb spoke authoratively. "If Fran has done what she said, Jensen should be sedated in her office by now. We go in, and declare ourselves."

"Whats the cover?" Arthur asked.

"I'm an associate of hers from the University, and you are a junior researcher. Ari is an undergrad working on a criminology thesis. We're here to observe Fran at work."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Nice."

Cobb looked at him. "Thanks." The three of them began to walk into the imposing, austere entrance.

The warden on duty looked up. "Yes?"

"We're here to see Dr Roberts." Cobb's voice was calm. "We're from the University. She said she'd left a note here."

"Oh, did she?" the Warden raised his eyebrows, and started sorting through the papers. "She did. Are you- " he squinted at Cobb – "Dr Aidan Turner?"

Cobb nodded. "I am. These are my associates."

"OK. You'll all need day passes. Sign here please."

* * *

Eames looked up. The Warden was standing outside his door. "OK, new guy. You're next."

"What for?"

"Therapy. Apparently Roberts wants you guys to have a joint session- begin to understand each other."

Eames got up. "What a nice idea."

The Warden glared. "Save it, wise guy. This way."

Eames walked down the corridor, noting the dreary uniformality of the walls. No wonder depression amongst prisoners was rising, he conjectured, with the complete absence of any change. He got to the door of Fran's office.

The warden knocked. "Dr Roberts, Eames is here."

Fran opened the door. "Thank you, she said courteously. "That will be all."

Eames walked in; she shut the door firmly.

"Where are the others?"

She checked her watch. "If my timing is correct, they should be here in five." She looked at Eames. "The chairs."

Before two minutes had passed, another knock sounded at the door. She opened it, and in walked the rest of the team.

"OK," Cobb looked at Fran. "This-" he handed her the shoulder case – "is the PASIV. Did you get the notes I sent you?"

She nodded. "Yes. Read and understood." She gestured to Jensen, who was fast asleep, his handcuffed wrists stretched out in front of him. "He'll be out for two hours."

"That gives us-" Cobb swallowed. "Three days in the first layer, and six weeks in the second." He looked at the others. "Eames. We're in your dream first. Arthur? The second."

Both men nodded. Ariadne looked at Fran, nervously. The psychiatrist smiled, but didn't offer a hand.

"OK, get into position." Cobb spoke abruptly, and the four team members pulled up chairs. Opening the case, Fran began to pull out the IVs, checking the amount of sedative. After a couple of minutes, Cobb spoke again.

"Everyone ok?"

Arthur and Ariadne nodded assent, as did Eames. Fran was finishing taping up Jensen. She looked at Cobb.

"Fran? Its time."

The psychiatrist knelt down, her expensive suit jacket grazing the floor. She reached for the centre button and pressed. "Sleep tight."


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you. **

Ariadne shivered. The air was sharp, with a clear golden light. The brooding, dark hulks of factories and warehouses surrounded them. They were in the industrial part of a town, and as they looked, they could see rows of streets stretching ahead of them by turning right. She looked at the others.

"Well, where do we start?"

Cobb surveyed the surroundings. "We start with Arthur and myself going to the local bar to find him. You and Eames can start searching further back in the town."

"Why you and Arthur?"

"Because we'll look like a pair of undercover cops." Cobb spoke authoratively, but his heart was racing. The maze was well constructed, with Ariadne having perfected even the tiniest detail down to the glint of sunlight off glass, but he was painfully aware of the hostile projections they could encounter within Jensen's mind. So far, they could hear the clattering grind of the factories working, but had not encountered any people.

"What makes you think he'll be in a bar?" Ariadne tried again.

Cobb shrugged. "Lucky guess. Lets assume that's where he'll be, and if not, we'll ask."

Eames spoke. "OK. We have three days in this layer to find Jensen and question him. Lets try and make it out in 24 hours."

Cobb turned to the Forger. "Eames, this is your dream. I need you to build sites that you think he's likely to go to, and Arthur and I will check them out. You two need to keep the projections under observation."

The Forger nodded. "Got it."

Cobb then turned to Arthur, who looked perfectly composed. "You. Lets go."

* * *

The walk to the bar was through side streets. As the two men approached, they became aware that this part of the dream was rooted in the seedier part of the maze. A strip club, with "XXX LIVE GIRLS" flashing in neon pink lights approached them. A young woman was standing outside, smoking. She looked at Arthur.

"Hey cutie, want a show?"

"Not my thing," he answered, casually, but turned to Cobb.

"What on earth?"

"Projection," the Extractor reminded him. Arthur shook his head, and reached in his pocket, worrying at his loaded die. They turned a corner, and passed an adult video store, and another club, advertising pole dancing. Arthur shivered.

"I could make a crack about Eames building this world-"

"Save it," Cobb interrupted. "We're here." Arthur looked up. They were standing in front of a run down building, its wooden front battered by years of temperamental weather. A faded golden name at the top branded the bar "BEAUMAN'S."

Cobb nodded. "Lets go."

As they entered, a stale smell of cigarette smoke and dried sweat hit Arthur in the back of his throat, making him dry retch. The bar was practically full, and predominantly male. Several turned to look at the two men, their faces creasing with hostility.

Cobb approached the bar. "Excuse me?"

A sullen looking woman looked up. "Yeah?"

"Two beers, please."

Grudgingly, the woman reached down to pull out two glasses. Arthur stood near the bar, scanning for any sign of Jensen. His eyes skipped over the male crowd, realising he was pulling glares in return. Blushing, he lowered his gaze to the counter.

Then he turned. A large man was approaching him, reeking slightly of alcohol.

"You lookin' at me, man?" he was mumbling, but Arthur detected the trace of menace.

"No," the Point Man responded calmly. "I'm looking for someone."

Cobb's fingers tightened on the edge of the bar. They were attracting the projections already, who had already noticed them as interlopers. Jensen's subconscious was starting to try and protect him.

"Oh, yeah?" The man had an ugly leer, and exhaled booze soaked fumes into Arthur's face. "You sure you're not looking for- trouble?"

A couple of men near the bar laughed without humour. Cobb could feel his heart begin to pound. He wished Arthur would just walk away.

"No, I'm looking for someone." Arthur's gaze was steady. "Trust me, its not you."

Arthur turned. The man grabbed his shoulder. "Not so fast, pretty boy."

* * *

Eames walked quickly, and Ariadne was finding herself almost jogging to keep up. Both of them were turning into the main part of the town, and she was noticing they were attracting stares from everyone.

"They're all looking at us," she observed, nervously.

Eames grimaced. "Lets keep walking. Chances are, they've cottoned on."

"What do you think is happening to Arthur and Cobb?"

Eames looked at her. "I suspect they've probably found him. Its my dream, I'm trying to facilitate that they'll go to obvious places for him."

"Such as?"

Eames raised his eyebrows. "The red light district."

Ariadne smiled faintly. "I should have guessed."

* * *

Arthur turned and faced the man. "Please, don't do that."

The man's face was beginning to take on an openly hostile look. "Or you'll what? I'll snap you like a twig!"

Arthur remained calm, and from his pocket, pulled out a badge. "I'll arrest you. Police."

The man's jaw dropped, and he backed off. Mumbling an obscenity, he turned and fled. Cobb exhaled, not realising until then he'd been holding his breath. He turned to the barmaid, whose face was beginning to register shock.

"Is there a phone book in here?"

She nodded. "Yeah, over by the pay phone." She pointed.

"Thanks." He grabbed Arthur's sleeve. "Come on." They hurried to the secluded corner, where a greasy black rotary dial phone hung on the wall. Rifling through the phone book, Cobb located "Jensen, Michael, 412 Pynchon Avenue." He ripped the page out. "Arthur. Lets go."

Arthur walked out of him. "That was-"

"Save it, we don't' have time." Cobb interrupted, He ignored the look of annoyance on the Point Man's face. "Pynchon Avenue." He turned, and noticed a cab driving down the street. He gestured, and it stopped.

Quick as a flash, Arthur was in the passenger seat, pointing a gun in the driver's face. "Pynchon Avenue. Don't ask questions, I will shoot you. Understand?"

The driver nodded, dumbly, as Cobb got in the back. Arthur waved the gun. "Drive."

* * *

Fran checked her watch, and bit her lip. 5 minutes had passed. She looked at the silent dreamers, and then at the PASIV.

"Please hurry," she muttered.

* * *

Eames' cellphone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Pynchon Avenue, that's where he's hiding." Cobb's voice was urgent. "Can you guys meet us there?"

Eames nodded. "Of course." He turned to Ariadne. "OK, lets go. They may have found him."

* * *

Pynchon Avenue was burnt out, Arthur observed. As the cab swung round the corner, Arthur instructed the driver to stop.

"Right here." He pulled out a ten. "Thank you."

Both men approached a gloomy apartment block. Entering, they noticed that the elevator was displaying a prominent sign – "OUT OF ORDER."

"Very lucid dreaming," Arthur commented, and Cobb shrugged. "Its 412, it'll be on the fourth floor. Lets walk."

The stairs were rickety, and coated with dust. The staleness of the atmosphere kept hitting Arthur in the back of his throat, and he coughed. Cobb climbed fixedly on. Eventually, they reached the fourth floor.

"412," Cobb reminded Arthur.

"I'm on it." The Point Man picked up his pace; he was practically running. After one turn of a corner, they were standing in front of scratched, battered door. "412" was displayed in brass letters.

Cobb banged on it. "Open up! Police!"

Another door opened. Arthur turned round. A large, heavy man was approaching, holding a piece of what looked suspiciously like lead piping. "What the hell do you-"

Arthur fired, and he collapsed, groaning. Cobb looked at him.

"That was a little-"

"-efficient." The Point man finished. "He's not going to open it, let's kick it-"

Suddenly, the door swung open. Jensen was peering behind it. His eyes widened.

"Fuck! No!" He exclaimed, and bolted.

Arthur was straight in. "No you don't!"

"Arthur!" Cobb shouted. "ARTHUR!"


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Jensen ran to the back window, slipping slightly on the faded, dog eared floor rug. Arthur noticed, but knew this wouldn't slow the desperate man down. His suspicions were correct when Jensen hoisted up one rotting window, and jumped out on to a black fire escape. His feet made the rusting metal clang.

Arthur didn't stop. He barely glanced at the seedy, squalid apartment, and instead went after him. He slipped over the ledge easily, and followed him down the fire escape. His lighter weight and build made the escape groan less ominously, but he noticed the nail on one ledge that was pulling away from the wall.

Jensen hit the ground, feet first, and kept on running. Arthur quickly scanned the scene. A large, industrial barn was situated about a quarter of a mile in the distance. If he kept up this pace, he could reach him as he got there.

* * *

Cobb stood stock still, unable to comprehend what he'd just witnessed. Arthur had just taken off, after their mark.

"Arthur-" Cobb spoke out loud, then stopped. He realised it was futile. The Point Man would handle it. Walking through the apartment, he noticed the seediness of the detail. A huge green armchair, with ripped and stained upholstery, was shoved up close to a battered looking TV set. A blonde ok coffee table was covered with magazines – with distaste, Cobb saw they were predominantly porn.

Jensen, he was beginning to realise, was the patsy in this case. A man who was vulnerable and in need of affection, who'd been manipulated into helping commit a crime. The real murderer was the cool, clever man that Fran had identified as the profile. The dream, and what Jensen's subconscious was adding, indicated an individual far away from that.

Swallowing, Cobb walked towards the kitchen. He realised he was looking – for a clue, an indication, _anything._ The kitchen was small, and cramped, and the Extractor realised that he wasn't above opening and looking in the drawers. He moved towards the end cupboard, and started to open it.

* * *

Arthur ran. His heart was pounding, but he barely noticed. He was focused on Jensen, who was heading towards the door of the warehouse.

The older man was sprinting. He was approaching a side door, which was starting to loom. Arthur exhaled and kept going. He would reach him, he knew it-

WHACK!

Suddenly, Arthur found himself sent sideways into the dirt. Dazed, he sprawled for a second, then started to sit up. His heart was beginning to slow. He put down one hand, and attempted to get up again.

WHACK!

This time, he was knocked from the other side. He fell. Suddenly, his heart began to pound.

_Oh, God. The projections!_

Arthur sat up. His jaw was set. Putting both hands down, he pushed himself up – and heard footsteps running towards him. He reached out, and punched a man hard. In the face.

A gasping noise was heard, and the other man went down. Arthur's vision had cleared, and he managed to get a look at the figure sprawling before him. Slim, tall, black jeans, shoulder length dark hair-

Arthur's jaw set. He reached round the back of his waistband, searching for his gun.

* * *

Cobb shut the cupboard door in frustration. Nothing. The kitchen was devoid of any clues.

He moved into the lounge again. Looking around, he noticed the majority of the furniture was completely open – shelving, chairs, tables. He decided to move into the bedroom.

The bedroom was dingy. Bedsheets were a tangled mess; clothes were scattered on the floor. Cobb suddenly noticed the bedstead. There was a drawer.

On instinct, he moved towards it.

* * *

The man looked up, and saw the gleam of metal approaching his face. He smirked, and using his hands, pushed himself up.

"Bad move," he hissed, and grabbed Arthur's hand, twisting it painfully. The Point Man responded by punching his assailant again to the face, causing him to drop, and pulling Arthur with him. The gun was coming loose from Arthur's hand.

The man punched Arthur in the face, causing the Point Man to reel back. Feeling dazed, he suddenly felt a constricting sensation around his throat. Someone's arm. Putting his hand over the forearm that was binding him, he pulled down, feeling it loosen. He choked and felt oxygen beginning to rush back into his lungs. Digging his fingers in, he pulled the arm away from his throat.

"You're not getting the message, are you?"

Arthur felt a stinging blow to his kidneys. He retaliated by dealing an uppercut to the guy's jaw.

Suddenly he realised. He had just punched a different guy.

"Fuck this," the voice spat. Suddenly, a blow to the head was dealt. Feeling dizziness take a hold, Arthur tried to stay steady. He winced. Pain in a dream was as bad as reality.

"Take him," the voice had roughened.

* * *

Cobb knelt down in front of the bedstead. He pulled gently at the drawer, noting how it was splintering around the edges.

At first, the drawer seemed to contain nothing but tissues and packets of condom. Cobb exhaled in frustration. But then he noticed what appeared to be a small black book. Holding his breath, he began to pull it out.

A journal. Finally, it looked as though Jensen's mind was beginning to give up its secrets.

Ariadne and Eames hurried to the meeting point. "No sign of them," Eames muttered. "I guess we'll just wait."

Ariadne scuffed part of the of the ground with her shoe. "I guess so."

* * *

Cobb clutched the journal, and slid it in his pocket. This had been even easier than he'd dared hope. Time to assemble the team, and look at what he'd found.

Hurrying down the stairs, he spotted Ariadne and Eames. He broke into a jog.

"Hi!" He gasped. "You guys made it!"

Ariadne looked at him, curiously. "Where's Arthur?"

Cobb looked at them. "He went after Jensen-"

Eames snapped to attention. "After Jensen? In Jensen's mind? With his projections?"

"I thought he'd be-" Cobb cleared his throat. "I mean, Arthur's dealt with difficult situations before!"

"Oh really?" Eames looked at the Extractor. "In the mind of a psychotic?"

* * *

Arthur groaned as he was lifted. He felt himself being manoeuvred, and landing on something soft, but scratchy. He shifted.

"Hey, sleepyhead." The voice was taunting. "Time to go for a little ride!"

Suddenly, there was a clang of metal shutting, and the entire world became pitch black .


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"So, don't you think we should go after him?"

Eames' voice was taught. Cobb looked at the Forger, and chose his words carefully.

"We have no idea where he went." His tone was honest. "They could be in the warehouse; they could be anywhere. He could be –"

"Dead", Eames finished, simply. Ariadne gasped. "But if he's dead, he'll wake up, right?"

Cobb nodded. "Right. We're not deep enough to go into limbo."

"But…we can still feel pain." Eames was looking at the Extractor. "Arthur could still feel pain. They could torture him, they could do anything."

"Why do you assume that?" Cobb was starting to feel angry. "Why are you assuming the worst?"

"We're in the mind of a convicted killer!" Eames was starting to lose it. "We are trapped in Jensen's mind, and he has been diagnosed as psychotic! Christ knows what Arthur's encountering! Have you seen the projections that are in this? Aggression, hostility, anger – its all around us! These are not normal projections, Dom – they're the product of a deranged mind!"

"Yes, I know!" Cobb's voice was hard. "I know the dangers! I didn't tell Arthur to go after him – that was his decision! He has to take responsibility for what he's doing! He's the Point Man, for God's sake, its his responsibility to-"

"But you knew!" Eames was starting to approach the Extractor. "You knew the effect this case was having on him! You knew that he'd gone under and confronted Jensen in a projection, and what happened! He-"

"He did it twice." Cobb's voice was tired.

"What?"

"He went under again." Cobb swallowed. "He told me that he projected somebody else. A guy called Rafe, something like that."

"Rafe?" Eames face assumed a puzzled expression. Suddenly, a look of clarity spread over his features. "Oh, God. Cobb. We have to find him. Now!"

* * *

"Are you alive there?"

Arthur shifted. He remembered moving – although he'd no sense of direction where to. He'd felt several bumps, and the heat and confinement had made him realise that he was in the trunk of a car. He'd tried to shout, then realised he was gagged.

He realised all he could see was darkness. Then, as he moved his eyes, he felt his eyelashes scratch at material. Blindfolded.

He swallowed. If he died, he'd wake up. But, as he accepted this, he knew that if they decided to inflict pain, he'd feel it. Feel it as he would in reality. He pulled at his hands, then realised they were bound.

"I asked you a question. Are you alive there?"

"Yes." Arthur thought he sounded weak, but at least he didn't choke. He swallowed, and kept his composure.

"I'm going to take the blindfold off. You're to keep your hands down."

Arthur complied, wincing slightly as a shaft of bright sunlight hit his eyes. Trees fanned out above him, and the rich smell of forestry hit his senses. As he looked up, he noticed that his assailant's face was hidden. He was wearing a plain white plastic mask, that gave his face an eerie, ghostlike quality.

"Listen." The voice was soft, commanding. "You're going somewhere. Somewhere you won't be found."

Arthur stiffened. He willed himself to stay calm. He shifted his leg, and realised that his ankles and knees weren't tied. Swallowing, he focused on the ghostly image in front of him.

"So where am I going?"

"In the ground." Turning his head, Arthur saw a soft pile of earth forming. His eyes widened in horror.

"No-one will find you. I promise."

* * *

"So who is Rafe?" Cobb was struggling to contain his emotions.

"Rafe is Jensen' alleged boyfriend…apparently Jensen was telling other inmates that his boyfriend killed a woman."

"So we're in Jensen's head-and his boyfriend will be a projection-" Cobb swallowed. "Why the hell didn't you tell us this before? We needn't have even come in here!"

"Jensen's delusional, we don't even know if its true!" Eames voice was gathering in anger. "Its true I got told this, but it might not even be true! All we know is that he's consumed with guilt over Chandra Caddick! That's all!"

"You still should have told me!" Cobb was yelling. "Why didn't you?"

"Because you wouldn't have listened!" Eames' anger boiled over. "You're obsessed with this case! You would have taken it as an attempt to stop you!"

"STOP IT!"

Both men turned. Ariadne was looking at both of them, her face white, and her fists clenched.

"This isn't going to help Arthur!" She struggled to control her voice. "We need to find him – and find out whats in that journal!" She gestured at Cobb's hand. He'd almost forgotten he was holding it.

Cobb ran a hand over his face. "OK, lets try and find him. We've got-" he checked his watch – "two and a half days at this level."

"We can't go any further." Eames reminded him. "Jensen's gone, remember?"

Cobb exhaled. "Yes, I know."

* * *

"OK, is it deep enough?"

"Y-yes."

"Excellent. Help me carry him in."

The ghost bent down and grabbed Arthur's ankles, He responded by lifting his legs and kicking him in the crotch. The man staggered back, cursing.

Arthur bent his knees, and raised up. He noticed that Jensen was trying to drag himself out of the makeshift grave. The ghost was trying to straighten up.

Arthur tilted, and got on his feet. He turned, and ran.

* * *

Fran checked her watch. Thirty minutes. She observed them.

They looked so peaceful, just lying there. She knelt down, and whispered to Jensen.

"If I pull the IV out, will you go into limbo? You deserve to, you piece of shit!"

* * *

Cobb looked round. "Footsteps. Start tracing them. Now!"

Eames jogged off, looking. Suddenly, he noticed something else. "Dom, over here."

The Extractor approached him. "What is it?"

The Forger pointed. "Tyre tracks."

* * *

Arthur didn't know where he was, and didn't care. He had to get away. His running was slightly off balance, due to his wrists being bound, but he kept going.

He heard a noise behind him. The projection. He looked, and suddenly noticed what appeared to be the edge of a ravine. Gritting his teeth, he walked to the edge, and jumped.

Arthur fell. Fell through the space, in slow motion. All he could see where the rocks. The impact hit his face first, and then the shockwaves shuddered through the rest of his body. His eyes began to close…

…And then began to open. He sat up, gasping, looking into Fran's eyes.

"Hey," she said gently, putting her hand on his arm. "I'm right here."


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Which way do they go?"

Ariadne swallowed. "It looks as if they go out to…" she looked at Eames. "In the original deisgn, I mapped out a forest. What are you doing with it?"

"I've built it." Eames paused. "Its quite treacherous, there are ravines."

Cobb looked at them both. "Lets go."

"Cobb…" Ariadne hesitated. "What if Arthur's already-"

"He'll wake up," Cobb spoke tersely. "I promise. The sedative isn't deep enough for limbo."

"OK." Eames exhaled. "Lets go to the forest. We've got-" he checked his watch "-two and a half days in here."

Cobb started to pick up his pace. "It won't take that long."

* * *

Arthur leaned back and exhaled. His breathing was shallow, and he closed his eyes. Fran was looking at him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What happened?"

Arthur blinked. "Trust me, its not worth talking about."

"You went into Jensen's mind and its not worth talking about?" She stood up, crossing the room to the tiny sink. "I think it is."

"Well, you're going to have to trust me." The words came out in a snap, and Arthur flushed at their harshness. "We went in, and I-" he paused. "I had to wake up. I made a mistake. So, I rigged my own death."

"What mistake did you make?" Her voice was calm.

"I made the mistake of going after a projection." His breathing was starting to feel more normal. "I made the mistake of trying to be a hero. I still haven't learned its not my role in the team to do that."

He looked at her. Her eyes were intense.

"You know," her voice was even. "I think you're learning more about yourself on this job than you ever have done. I think a lot of anger and bitterness is seeping out of you. And its helping to corrupt your part in the dream."

"Don't psychoanalyse me…" Arthur began, warningly.

She shrugged. "OK. Where are the others?"

"Still in the dream."

"What?" She looked at him. "Do they know-?"

"No." Arthur looked at her. "I went after Jensen. His boyfriend – a projection – got involved. Next thing I knew, they were digging my grave. I managed to get up, and ran. Saw a ravine, jumped off."

"You did what you had to."

"Yes." Arthur rubbed his face. "I have no idea whats happened to the others."

Her jaw was set. "I guess we'll just have to wait-" she checked her watch – "for ninety minutes."

Arthur swallowed. "Yes."

* * *

The forest was looming ahead of them. Cobb felt sweat forming damp patched under his arms, and down his back. He breathed more steadily. He turned, and saw Eames and Ariadne still walking behind him.

"You two ok?"

"Yep." Eames puffed slightly. "Absolutely fine. Once we get out of this bloody sun-"

"It is your dream," Cobb interrupted. "Come on."

They kept moving. Suddenly, Cobb stiffened. "Listen."

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" A furious voice demanded. "How could you be so stupid as not to tie his legs?"

"Look," another, more feeble voice pleaded, "I'm sorry. I didn't think, and I –"

"Too damn right." The voice was sour. "And now he's gone. Upped and ran."

Cobb swallowed. He leaned in closer to a tree. He turned slightly, and gestured to the others to follow his example.

"I don't see why you're so bothered about him," the paler voice was a whine. "He's not important."

"He was running after you." The stronger voice contained a warning edge. "Don't you think it's a little odd that he was coming after you? Do you have any idea why?"

Cobb stepped forward – and felt his heart constrict painfully as he stepped on a twig. The snapping noise echoed throughout the clearing. Eames and Ariadne both stopped moving.

"What the-?" The stronger voice sounded surprised. "Who's there? Show yourselves!"

Cobb took another step forward, pulling his gun out of his holster. As he moved, he could see the two figures looking round, anxiously. The taller of the two was in his late 30s, he estimated, and dressed in tight black jeans and a white shirt. He could tell by the movements of the man that he was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Whose there?" This time, the voice was louder. "I promise you, I'll shoot!"

Cobb fired a shot into the air, causing a flock of birds to scatter. Eames and Ariadne looked at him, Eames moving forward and pulling his own gun out. "Get back," the Forger hissed at the Architect. She obeyed and slipped back behind a copse.

"Who the fuck-"

BANG! Cobb fired again, this time in another direction. Eames followed suit, and the forest echoed with their gunfire. Birds were starting to disperse, screeching and chittering as they did so. Cobb began to move forward.

"If you shoot again, I swear I'll shoot at you myself!" The other man was starting to unravel. Cobb took another step forward, pointing his gun steadily in front of him. He noticed one slim hand reach to the back of the black jeans, sliding a sleekly barrelled gun out from the back.

Cobb moved fast, and pointed the gun directly into his back. "Drop it."

The man did. "OK." He pulled the gun out, and dropped it on the floor. "Complied. Now. Who the fuck are you?"

"Doesn't matter." Cobb pushed the gun barrel harder into his back. "What does is your answer to this question. Who are you?"

"I'm –" the man paused. "I'm whoever I want to be. Does that answer your question?"

Cobb swallowed. "You're here with Michael Jensen."

"Correct."

"What did you do with Arthur?"

"Oh, is that his name?" The man shrugged. "I have no idea. He ran."

"What?" Cobb struggled to control his voice. "He…ran?"

"Yeah." The voice was mocking. "What a coward. I mean, really."

Cobb tightened his grip on his gun. "What did you do?"

"I was planning to put him under the ground." Suddenly, the man whirled to face Cobb, his green eyes glinting like jagged glass. "That's what I was going to do. But-" the voice was a hiss – "as he's not here, I guess you'll have to do."

Suddenly, Cobb felt a punch to his jaw as the man lashed out. He staggered back. Another swing was taken at him, causing him to reel.

"Dom!" Eames was running over. "Dom, wait, I'll-"

Suddenly, Eames voice was cut off. Cobb wiped a trickle of blood from his face, and turned.

Eames was lying on the floor. Jensen was standing next to him, a shocked look on his face.

"What-" Cobb looked at Eames. "What the hell-"

The man smiled, mockingly. "Its simple. Its called a sedative. Comes in a syringe." He grinned at Jensen. "Nice work. Guess you're not the useless piece of shit I thought!"

Cobb was trying to keep calm. "But if you sedate someone in a-" he stopped himself. He'd nearly said "dream."

"If you sedate someone, they're at your mercy," the other man spat. "Here, wanna try some?"

Suddenly, Cobb felt a sharp, burning pinprick in his skin. Then, darkness began to fill his vision. Everything seemed to melt and fold. He staggered, then began to crumple, falling to the floor like a dead weight.

The man looked at Jensen. "OK, that's them done. Lets take them back."

"What for?"

"For a fucking party, what do you think? Help me drag them!"

Ariadne looked, her eyes wide with shock. Suddenly, pure terror overcame her. She turned to run, feeling a desperate need to get away from this unfolding horror. But then, a sizzling bolt of pain seared her shoulder. She began to fall to her knees, screaming.

"Oh, I'm sorry Princess, did that hurt?" Footstep were running up behind her – her vision and hearing were starting to feel fuzzy. "What a shame. Hey, lets put you out of your misery!"

Another shot was fired. Ariadne screamed – and suddenly found herself looking into Arthur's brown eyes. "Oh, Christ!" She felt tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

"Hey, its ok!" Arthur started to draw her into his arms. "Its ok, Ari, you're awake!"

"But-but-"

"Shhhh," Arthrur soothed, running his hand down her back. "Its ok." She sobbed into his shoulder.

Fran was leaning over Eames, a puzzled expression on her face. "Arthur."

"It'll be ok, Ari, It'll be-"

"ARTHUR!"

Arthur glared at her, his anger starting to build. "What?"

"There's something not right." Fran's voice was terse. "Come here."

Bristling slightly, Arthur relaxed his hold on the Architect. "What is it?"

"Its Eames." She picked up his wrist. "His pulse has slowed – quite a lot. So has Cobb's."

Arthur felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over him. He grabbed Eames' wrist, and frantically felt for the pulse.

"Oh, God," he breathed, and began to feel for Cobb's. "Ari – what happened?"

She turned, her lip quivering. "It was this other guy – he was with Jensen- he did something to Eames and Cobb-"

"What did he do?" Arthur's voice was rising. "What did he do?"

"He said – he had a sedative-"

"A sedative?" Fran looked at Arthur. "If you sedate someone in a dream –"

"They're not in a dream anymore," Arthur's voice was low. "They're in a coma."


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Nothing. He could see nothing in his line of vision.

Cobb blinked. The forest had disappeared. He was standing in what felt like a vast, open space – but there seemed to be no points of reference, nothing to identify where he was. He opened his mouth – no sound came out.

_Move forward_, he told himself.

Empty space. He stretched a hand out. Nothing.

* * *

"A coma?" Fran was looking at Arthur, her jaw set. "Do you mean – as in comatose? Or a persistent vegetative state? Or do you mean-"

"I mean what I said", Arthur spoke, his voice terse. "Coma. Unconsiousness. They're in a dream, they've been sedated in that dream. They've gone into a deeper level of unconsciousness. They're comatose."

"Is this a normal risk?" Fran was trying to keep her voice calm. "Or does this thing happen frequently?"

"It depends on the projections you encounter," Arthur said. "On the Fischer job, his mind was militarised, we were shot at – there's always a risk when you dream, Fran. They knew that."

"But sedation – " she looked at him. "That's the kind of thing a killer would think of. But – Jensen's not a killer. Which means there is a projection-"

She looked at Arthur, her eyes narrowing. "There is-"

"A coma?" Ariadne interrupted. The Point Man turned; he'd momentarily forgotten about the Architect. "Are Cobb and Eames-"

"I don't know," Arthur admitted, "I think so. If they were sedated in the dream-"

Ariadne looked at the two men, who gave the appearance of sleeping deeply and peacefully. "They were trying to help you."

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"You had disappeared, Cobb was worried about you." Ariadne's voice was quiet, as she pieced together her memories of the dream. "We found tyre tacks, leading out into the forest. We were looking for you, we heard two men arguing-"

"Who were they, Ariadne?" Fran's voice was calm. "If you can remember."

"One was Jensen."

"OK," Fran nodded. "Who was the other? Did you see him?"

"I think I did."

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

Ariadne paused. "I think he was tall, thin, dark haired-"

Arthur sucked in his breath. Fran looked at him. "A projection?"

"Yes, I think so."

"The projection was armed. With a sedative." Fran looked at Arthur. "Jensen- did he suspect that he was going into this? Did Eames say anything to him?"

"No." Arthur shook his head. "We're dealing with a psychotic, and the projection in his mind is of his boyfriend, I swear it is. He attacked me once in a-"

He broke off. The two women were looking at him. Ariadne's mouth was falling open with shock.

"He attacked you?" She whispered. "In a dream?"

"Yes." Arthur faced her. "I – put myself under a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to see what would happen." He swallowed. "I was attacked by the projection. I fought him off, and woke up, but-"

"Did you tell Cobb?"

"I told him I'd been attacked by a projection when I was under, but-"

"Did you tell Cobb who the projection was?" Ariadne's voice was rising in intensity. "Did you tell him, Arthur?"

Arthur looked straight at her. "No," he admitted. "I didn't." Her face was beginning to crumple. "I should have done- I'm sorry – I didn't-"

"Its all you fault," she barely whispered. "Its all your fault!"

She started to back away from him, moving towards the door. "They're trapped in there, they're comatose, and you knew what this guy could do! Its all your fault, Arthur, how could you do this to them? To us? We trusted you!"

Arthur looked at her, his heart beginning to pound. "Ari, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear –"

"But you lied to us!" Her voice was beginning to rise. "Its your job to make sure its safe for us to do this! You told us that we would be ok! You told me I'd be ok!" Tears were running down her face. Instinctively, Arthur moved towards her, then started when she slapped his hand away.

"Get away from me!" She shrieked. "Don't touch me, Arthur! You accused Cobb of putting us at risk, but you're the one whose put them in this state! You've done this!"

"Ari, please, let me explain. Please!"

"No," she looked at him, tears falling steadily now. "Please don't come near me. Please don't ever come near me again!"

She turned, and ran for the door, wrenching it open. As Arthur stood, stricken, her footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Fran walked straight to the phone on her desk, and punched in a few buttons.

"Hello. Just to let you know a young college student is approaching, in a distressed state. Could you please make arrangements for her to get home safely. She might need to see a doctor as well. Thank you."

Fran put the phone down. She turned to Arthur, her eyes furious, and cold.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Her voice was low. "You went in there with them, and you didn't even warn them?"

"Just don't start." Arthur's voice held a warning tone. "You have no idea-"

"Oh, I think I do." Fran glared at him. "You withheld information from the rest of the team. You told Cobb that one of the projections was dangerous, you didn't tell him which one. You let them go in, knowing there was a risk. You hypocritical, two faced shit!"

Arthur stepped up to her. With her heeled boots, they were virtually on eye-level.

"Don't you dare criticise me," his voice was cold. "I told them what they needed to know. There is an element of risk on every job. I went after that projection. He overpowered me, and I-"

"But you'd already encountered him, you knew what could happen!"

Arthur paused. "Yes," he admitted. "Things have gone wrong."

"Well, what do we do?" Fran looked at him. "We have- " she checked her watch – "30 minutes left of the dream time. They're in a coma, they could be down there for years."

"The dream will be collapsing. Its in Eames' head. If he's comatose, there is no dream."

"So they're trapped in Jensen's head, in no dream."

"No." Arthur swallowed. "Please, Fran, you have to listen to me. They're trapped inside their own. Its like being in limbo."

"So where is Jensen?"

"Jensen is just asleep, in a collapsing dream."

"So what are Eames and Arthur in?"

"They're in his head, battling their own minds." Arthur ran a hand over his face.

"Well, there's only one solution, isn't there?"

"Which is?" Arthur looked at her.

"We're going to have to go in, and help them."


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Eames began to open his eyes. A slight shaft of light hit them, and he winced. He closed them again, then tried to re-open.

White. All he could see was white.

Puzzled, he tried to stretch his arms out, but realised he couldn't. With a sense of fear rising, he tried to lift his arms, but found them constricted.

Blinking, he looked around. Everything was starting to come into focus.

He tried to move his arms. Still nothing. He tried to get up, but found his movements were hampered.

Eames swallowed. He pressed his cheek into the floor, and realised it was soft. Fear and unease were starting to mix, and catch in his throat. He twisted, and managed to sit up. As he looked around, he realised that everything he saw was white.

Pressing his cheek back into the floor, he tried to calm himself. _There has to be a way out._

Suddenly, he heard a grating noise. It echoed, harsh and painfully, through the room.

* * *

Arthur looked at Fran. She returned his gaze, her eyes as cold as his. Shrugging, she turned her back, and began to pull out another IV from the PASIV.

"You're really intending to go through with this?" Arthur's voice was low. "Because if you are, there are risks."

"Yes, I assume that." Her voice had a sharp edge. "But, we can't leave them down there. They're trapped in their own minds."

Arthur swallowed. "I know. Fran – I know that this is my fault, I know that I should have been more honest. But I thought I could handle it."

"Your recriminations are not helping anyone." She checked Eames' pulse. "Its slower than it was. He's entering a deeper state."

"What can happen to coma patients?" Arthur tried to keep his voice steady.

"They can stay in the condition for months. And they don't just wake up." She looked at him. "They're not just going to get bitten by a mosquito, and wake up, and remember. Some lose their basic motor functions, some loose some neurological capoabilities. It can change them. And that's from a coma due to an accident, or a trauma to the head. This is a coma that's been induced, in a dream. They're somewhere. Trapped in their own minds."

"Stop it." Arthur glared at her. "If you want to make me feel guilty, you're succeeding. You don't need to rub it in."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I'm just telling you the truth."

"This whole case-" Arthur looked at her. "It's a nightmare."

"It's a nightmare because you're not being honest."

He blinked. "What?"

"There's something going on with you that you won't tell anyone."

Arthur looked at her. "Cobb said the same thing." He glanced at the sleeping Extractor. "You, him, you all try and psychoanalyse me. But you never ask outright."

"Would you tell us if we did?"

"No." He spoke honestly.

She swallowed. "Fair enough."

"Lets go on with this." Arthur knelt down, and took Cobb's arm. "We can't both go in. I'll go in, and you can administer the kick."

"Arthur." Her voice was steady. "I think it would be better if I did it. In their own subconscious, they're battling themselves."

"What do you mean?"

* * *

Cobb stretched his arms out again – and hit something solid. He shifted.

He moved his arms to the left – and hit solidity again.

He felt constricted, unable to move. The darkness was virtually impenetrable. Stretching his arms out, he kept hitting a solid wall.

His breathing accelerated. Terror was beginning to rise.

* * *

"You project when you dream, don't you? Things that seem vague during the day become real, become frightening. In a state of coma, you're deep in your subconscious. Deep inside your worst nightmare."

Arthur rubbed his face with his hand. "And for those two-" he swallowed. "I know what mine is."

"Yes, Arthur." Her voice was very calm. "It's the killer. Do you know what it is for Eames and Cobb?"

Arthur paused. "Yes." His voice was slightly choked. "Yes, I do."

* * *

The noise grated, and Eames winced again. He tried to raise his arms again, and choked with frustration when he realised that he couldn't. For one terrifying moment, he wondered if they'd been amputed, but then felt the warmth and weight of them against his chest, and realised with relief that they were still there.

But he couldn't move them.

Eames looked round, desperately trying to see if he could find a way out. Then, the grating noise stopped, and another shaft of light fell through into the room.

Two pairs of feet came in, and stopped by his face.

"Lift him," a voice instructed. Eames tried to struggle, but he was lifted, and found himself on a bed. He blinked, and found himself staring up into the faces of two men. Blank, anonymous.

"Move him. Tighten that straitjacket."

Eames' eyes opened wide. Suddenly, he realised why his arms were confined. He opened his mouth, and tried to scream – no sound came out. His eyes widened in sheer terror.

"Lets go."

Eames felt himself begin to move. He closed his eyes.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Arthur looked at her. She was sitting in what was Arthur's seat, with the IV plugged into her forearm.

"Yes." She nodded. "How long have I got?"

Arthur checked his watch. "You've got about half an hour, in this time. That means in the dream, you have less than a day. In the coma, you have…"

"Three years." Her voice was quiet. "Trapped in there for three years."

"When you find them," Arthur licked his top lip, "what are you going to do?"

"Convince them to come back."

"I should be going with you."

"Arthur- there's no-one here to administer the kick."

"It's a risk, but we have to do it." He spoke authoratively. "Once the time runs out, the sedative this is administering will wear off, and we will wake up."

"Have you done this before?"

"Once."

She nodded. "Ok." She exhaled. "Arthur. I trust you for this."

"It doesn't matter whether you trust me or not. We have to do this, its that simple."

Arthur pulled up Ariadne's seat, and rolled up his shirt sleeve again. He began attaching the IV.

He leaned back. "OK. Ready."

"Right. Lets go." Her voice was brisk.

As the PASIV started, Arthur closed his eyes.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, with many thanks. **

"Still won't talk?"

"No. Won't even try."

A figure in a white coat above him shrugged, dispassionately. "This is getting…how long has it been?"

The other figure spoke. "At least a year and a half."

Eames' eyes bulged.

"What do you propose we do?"

"Shock him." The white coated figure looked briefly down at Eames. "It's the only way. Might stimulate a reaction."

"OK, ECT it is. Lets go!"

* * *

Arthur blinked. They were standing in the shadow of a the dirty, collapsing warehouse. Everything, he noticed, seemed to be crumbling and deteriorating.

"Is this Eames' dream?" Fran's voice jolted Arthur out of his reflections.

"Yes. Its starting to collapse. The dream can't be sustained for much longer. We've come back into it- " he looked around – "we have to find them."

"And then?"

"And then see if we can wake them up. The next layer of the dream was meant to be in my head."

Fran looked at him. "No comment."

"Appreciated." He bit out. "Lets go to the warehouse – I have a suspicion they will be there."

Fran started to walk. "This way?"

"Yes." He had to hurry to keep up with her rapid steps. Neither spoke as they approached the looming shadow. Arthur noticed how the corrugated iron on the side was starting to warp. His pace quickened.

* * *

Ariadne had finished packing her case. Grabbing the handle, she began to drag it off the bed. As it fell to the floor, she leaned over to straighten the rumpled bedspread.

Swallowing, she went into the kitchen, to prop the note for Cobb against the kettle. She hoped he would understand.

Taking the handle of the case, she pushed the door open, then walked out, shutting it firmly behind her.

* * *

He pressed against the confining walls. No change. He swallowed, trying not to panic. That would be fruitless, and merely waste valuable energy.

He took a deep breath. The air was becoming increasingly stagnant, and he was beginning to realise he would asphyxiate if he didn't get out. He pushed again. No change.

He opened his mouth, and tried to shout for help.

Silence.

* * *

"Hey," he knelt down in front of Cobb, a teasing smile on his face. Clicking his fingers, he looked for a reaction. "Are you alive in there?"

Jensen hovered, nervously. "Do you think that's – I mean-"

"I think, I do," was the curt reply. "Still out of it."

"So what do you think we should-"

"I think we should have some fun, Mikey." The man stood up from his crouching position, and peered at Cobb, his eyes narrowing. "I bet this guy needs a good time!"

"Rafe, do you really think-"

"Its only a crime if they say no." Rafe looked at Cobb. "I'll have the blonde. You can have the big guy. You always did like bears."

"Rafe, man, I really don't think we should do this-"

"Will you shut up?" Rafe exploded. "I am so sick of you and your whining voice! The only reason we are still together, is because killing you would be more trouble than its worth. Now, for once, just keep your mouth shut, and just do as I ask. Do you really think we're ever going to have two slabs of prime beef like this just laid out for us? Well, do you?"

Jensen was silent.

"Just get over there, and get him stripped! Just enjoy it!"

"I don't want to." Jensen's voice was almost a whine. "Please Rafe, please-"

Suddenly, there was the click of a gun. Jensen stiffened. He turned. His boyfriend was point a pistol straight at him.

"Just do it." His voice was like ice. "Or you know what will happen."

* * *

Fran reached the warehouse first. She pushed at a large metal door. To her surprise, it opened easily.

She swallowed. "Arthur?"

He was behind her. "I'm here."

"Do you know what we can-" she stopped.

"We'll just have to go in there, and see whats happening." His voice was calm, but inside, he felt his nerves beginning to fray. He took a deep breath. He'd handled the Fischer case, he reminded himself. He could handle this.

Fran pushed the door open. She scanned it. The room was filthy, with evidence of industrial decay – metal was worn away with rust, and she could hear the squeaks of feral rats. She shrugged. Rats were not a problem, she thought wryly – it was humans who could be real vermin.

Suddenly, she paused. She heard a voice. An angry, commanding voice, barking out obscenities. Trusting her instincts, she moved towards it.

* * *

"Where to, Sweetheart?"

"The airport please."

As the taxi pulled away from the curb, Ariadne felt tears well up. Her time with the team was over. She pulled out her wallet, and flicked through the receipts and bills until she came upon a photograph of her with them, that they'd had taken just before the Fischer job. Trying to muffle her tears, she began to shred it.

* * *

"Just bend him over, all right? Jesus Fucking Christ, do I have to do everything myself?" Fran moved nearer. She was half afraid of what she might find, but knew she couldn't stop. A secluded room was in a far corner of the warehouse. The door, she noted again, was open, but she could see that large cracks were starting to form across the walls. The dream was collapsing.

She went to the door, and nudged it open. What she saw made her suck in her breath.

* * *

"Right. Get him prepared. Is he on a rubber sheet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Make sure it's a high enough voltage. We have to stimulate the brain."

"Yes sir."

Eames moved his eyes, and saw the ECT machine being prepared. A scream rose in his throat. He opened his mouth, but no sound escaped.

* * *

"Come on, lets get over my knee," Rafe crooned, his voice a horrible taunt. Fran swallowed. As she saw him, her eyes narrowed. This must be the real killer.

She took her chance, and pushed the door open. "Am I interrupting something?"

Jensen took one look at her, and started. He'd been undressing Eames, and got as far as sliding the shirt off the unresponsive Forger. He stood up.

Rafe was kneeling in front of Cobb. From what little she had seen, Fran had surmised he'd been fiddling with his belt. He began to stand up, slowly. As he turned, his eyes locked with hers.

Fran looked at him.

"I think you'll find that therapy can help you with things like this."

Rafe turned, and began to walk towards her.

"Well, a visitor." His voice was smooth. "You know, I don't really go for women much. I find them really tedious. But someone who can walk in like you, and just dish it out…well…" he came closer. "I'd be willing to make an exception. Two dumb guys, and a bitch with attitude. This might just be it."

She walked towards him. "Might just be what?"

"Might just be the time of your life." Rafe's eyes were dazzling, she realised. As clear and hard as glass. She kept focused.

"Did you ask them if they wanted to play?" She leaned forward, virtually nuzzling his neck.

"No…" he breathed. "I assume that they just would. I assume a lot of things. And they happen."

The door creaked further. Arthur began to walk in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. As he saw the shirtless Extractor, and Eames, rage began to boil within him. He swallowed, and tried to keep his composure.

Rafe turned, and his eyes glittered.

"Oh, look…" he spoke softly. "It's the pretty boy." He moved away from Fran, and approached Arthur, his movements as languid as a snake's. "Come here, gorgeous." Coming up close to the Point Man, he put out a hand, and grabbed his tie.

"Right," and his smile was reptilian. "Now. Lean in, and give me a kiss."


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

"Is he ready?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Start the treatment."

The nurse nodded. Switching on the machine, he briefly daubed Vaseline to Eames' temple, and put a rubber tube into his mouth, horizontally. "Just bite down."

* * *

Rafe came closer to Arthur. "Come on. Just a kiss. I know you're dying to."

Arthur looked at him. Rafe was holding on to his tie, and pulling him towards him. Arthur felt his hands beginning to flex and tense.

An electric shock was administered to Eames. He bit down on the rubber tube in his mouth, feeling saliva begin to dribble out of his mouth.

He breathed, and started to choke.

* * *

Suddenly, the warehouse shook. Fran looked up, her face paling. Rafe narrowed his eyes. "What the-?"

Suddenly, he reeled back, as Arthur's fist collided with his jaw. Rafe staggered, snarling. Arthur seized his chance, and lashed out with his other fist, sending the man straight into the wall.

"Fran!" Arthur shouted. "Go and check on Dom and Eames!"

The psychiatrist nodded, and moved towards the chairs where the comatose Extractor and Forger were placed. Eames was starting to fall out of the chair, causing the warehouse to tilt. The sudden loss of gravity caused Fran to lose her footing, and fall on to the floor, straight into her side. She gasped.

Arthur had Rafe's neck in a grip. The other man was spitting as he tried to bite into Arthur's arm. As Eames began to fall, the warehouse slid further, causing the two men to slam into the floor. Arthur tightened his grip as they slid towards the other wall. As they hit it, Rafe's elbow shot back into Arthur's abdomen. The Point Man groaned as the other man began to struggle. Another vicious jab to the abdomen made Arthur wince. Rafe began to struggle, trying to rotate. The two men began to roll together across the floor, Rafe trying to wrest himself out of Arthur's grip. The Point Man tightened his grip in response, wincing as the other man sunk his teeth into his ear lobe.

On the other side of the room, Fran steadied herself, and looked at Jensen, who was lying on the floor.

"You!" She pointed her finger at him. "What did you give him? What have they been given? Answer me!"

He swallowed. "Flunitrazepam."

She looked at him. "You gave them that? Jesus." She moved over to Eames, who had fallen onto the floor. She gently pulled at one eyelid. "Eames? Its Fran. You're under sedation. Its going to wear off."

Eames didn't stir.

* * *

"OK, another shock. He's not responding."

"Yes, doctor."

"Higher voltage."

"Yes."

The nurse nodded, and administered another shock.

* * *

The warehouse shook again. Fran took Cobb's pulse.

"Slow." She muttered. She turned to Jensen. "How much?"

"I don't know-" the other man's face began to crumple. "I don't know!"

Arthur dodged a punch. Rafe's fist slammed into the concrete. Snarling, he tried to grab at Arthur's throat.

"You- " his lips were drawn back, teeth bared. Arthur dodged again as Rafe tried for another punch.

Arthur felt around the back of his waist. He gripped onto his gun, and began to slide it out of his waistband. Rafe tried to reach again for his throat. Arthur shoved the other man, sending him sprawling, and pushed the barrel of the gun into his abdomen, and fired.

The projection slumped, and went limp. Arthur shoved him off himself, and moved over to Fran.

* * *

"I think he might be starting to respond."

"Good. Another shock."

The warehouse shook again, and Fran stifled a scream as a large piece of corrugated iron began to dangle dangerously from the roof.

"Arthur!" She looked at him. "What's happening?"

He swallowed. "We're in Eames' head – wherever he is, its causing this, the dream is collapsing. We have to find them."

"Where's Rafe?"

"Dead." Arthur looked at her. "I had to. Jensen!" He barked.

The other man, cowering, looked over. "Yes?"

"Come here!"

The man obeyed, a look of fear on his face. Arthur ignored it.

"What were you and Rafe planning to do?"

"We-" Jensen swallowed, perspiration beading his forehead. "Rafe wanted to have some fun with them. I mean, they're not really his type, he likes guys like you-" he looked at Arthur.

"Thanks." Arthur spoke curtly. "We need to get these two back to consciousness. Fran?"

"Yes?"

"I need you to go in with them. I need you to go in and find them."

"Go into their comatose state?" She looked at Arthur. "Can't we just wake them up?"

"We don't have time." Arthur's tone was firm. "The dream's collapsing. You need to find Eames, bring him back. As soon as you do, we can find Cobb."

"Arthur." Her tone was intense. "How much time do I have?"

He checked his watch. "We have ten hours left in this dream. Wherever they are, you have at least one year left."

"You trust me to do this?"

Arthur's eyes met hers. "I don't have a choice. Please."

She nodded. "OK. We need a PASIV."

"The way the dream was designed ,a PASIV was left in the small cupboard in this room." He gestured. She went to it, and opened the door.

"Its here."

"Bring it over."

Arthur flipped open the lid, and began to pull out the IV. Fran rolled up her sleeve.

"OK. So, I find Eames first. And then?"

"Then, I will go in, to find Dom." Arthur spoke authoratively. "And in the meantime, Jensen, you will sit there and do nothing. Understood?"

The man nodded, dumbly.

"He's in no state to argue with anyone," Fran looked at the Point Man. "In fact, after this, I doubt he'll be in any state to communicate ever again. I think your case is over."

"Thanks for the diagnosis. Are you ready?"

"Yes." She looked at him. "And how are you going to wake me up?"

"I'll administer a kick."

"Make sure its effective, Arthur."

"Go to sleep, Dr. Roberts." As the last word left his lips, his hand slammed into the PASIV.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Reviews and readers very much appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur exhaled and looked at his watch. "Two hours, Fran, that's all you've got," he muttered. He checked her pulse, noting it was steady. Satisfied, he leaned back.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. Something cold was pressing at the back of his head.

"Let me go," Jensen's voice was quavering; Arthur tensed. "Let me go, and you'll never see me again. Please. I want to go. Please let me." His voice was starting to break.

Arthur swallowed. "Put the gun down, now. You'll end up killing us both."

"I won't kill you." The man paused. "I want to go. Please let me. Please." Jensen's voice was shaking; Arthur could detect the first signs of hysteria.

Arthur got up, and turned to Jensen. "Come on." He lowered and softened the tone of his voice. "Come on Mike, you don't have to do this. Put the gun down."

Jensen's hands were trembling. With a sense of shock, Arthur watched as he raised the gun, and pointed it at his chest.

"Mike." Arthur's voice was calm. "If you shoot me, you'll stay here. Do you want that?"

* * *

Fran looked around. The sheer whiteness of the walls was dazzling. She turned, and a figure in white hurried past.

"Excuse me!" She was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. The figure stopped, and glared at her.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for a man called Eames." Her voice had shifted into its crisp, cool, professional demeanour. She looked at the figure. It was a male nurse.

"Oh…" the nurse looked surprised. "He's just had shock treatment. He's in room 234."

Fran nodded. "And where is that?"

"Down the corridor, first turning to the left."

* * *

She tried ringing again, and it went straight to voicemail.

"_Hi, this is Dom Cobb. Please leave a message, I'll call you back. Thanks."_

Ariadne swallowed. "Dom? Its Ariadne. I'm sorry, but after what Arthur did, I can't continue with this job. I can't believe he betrayed us all like that. I am so sorry, but I never want to see or work with him again. He let me down-" her voice started to crack – "never told us the truth. I'm sorry Dom. I'm flying to Vancouver tonight to see my family. Bye."

As she clicked off, she began to cry.

* * *

"Talk to me Mike." Arthur was surprised at how calm his voice was. "Talk to me. Why do you think shooting me is going to help?"

"You killed Rafe." Jensen's voice trembled. "He loved me. You killed him."

Arthur swallowed. "I'm sorry, Mike."

"He made me feel special." Mike's lip was trembling, and Arthur noticed the trembling had accelerated in his hands. "You probably have someone who makes you feel special all the time."

"No, I don't." Arthur spoke calmly. "I don't have anyone who makes me feel special." He felt his heart give a painful little twist.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't." Arthur closed his eyes. Thoughts of Ariadne were hard to bear.

"Then," Jensen said, and Arthur's eyes flew open as he heard an ominous click. "You won't be missed, will you?"

* * *

The corridor was cold. Fran hurried down it, trying to ignore the hostile stares she was attracting. Various shouts and screams were echoing down the long white space, richocheting and increasing in volume. As she turned a corner, she felt her heart start to lift in relief – room 234 was in front of her.

Swallowing, she turned the handle. As she walked in, she saw Eames.

He was completely unconscious, with bruising to his temples. Biting her lip, she walked over to his prone form. His eyes were shut, his expression almost peaceful.

She touched his shoulder, gently. "Eames? Eames, can you hear me?"

* * *

"If you kill me - ." Arthur met Jensen's eyes – the gun was at point blank range. He swallowed. "If you kill me, you might live to regret it. Rafe was a killer. You're not."

"Rafe loved me."

"Yes, Mike. He loved you so much, he made you his accomplice." Arthur saw suspicion and fear mingle across Jensen's small features. He took a deep breath and continued. "Why did you agree to it? Why did you agree to help him kill her? What was in to for you?"

* * *

"Eames? Listen to me. Its Fran Roberts. You're currently under sedation. This isn't real. I'm going to-" she paused. What could she say?

Suddenly, an idea came to her. Turning, she began to leave the room. On her way out, a young female nurse approached her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor." Fran's voice was coldly authorative. "I need to get to the pharmacy."

The nurse shook her head. "No."

Fran gritted her teeth. Projections. Smiling, she reached to her waist, and pulled out a gun. Cocking it, she directed it at the nurse.

"Either you show me the paharmacy, or I use this."

The nurse blinked. "Of course, this way."

* * *

"I didn't want her to die…I didn't want her to die…"

"I didn't say you did." Arthur was beginning to lose his patience. "Just…tell me what you know."

"If I do, will you let me go?"

"Of course I will." Arthur smiled at Jensen, the smile softening his features. "Come on, you can tell me."

* * *

Fran kept the gun close as she went into Pharmacy. The coldness of the psych unit was beginning to creep over her skin. She shivered, and began to search through the neatly stacked bottles of pills and liquid.

She found what she wanted. Quickly, she grabbed it, and then pulled out a small metal drawer, fishing out a packet of fresh syringes. Tucking them into her suit jacket, she hurried out, heading straight back to Eames.

* * *

He banged against the wood. Still no movement.

Desperation was beginning to flood him. He was beginning to feel increasingly short of breath. He gave one final push. Nothing.

* * *

Fran looked at the full syringe. Laying it carefully on the metal tray by the bed, she gently took Eames' side, and pushed him so he was facing the wall.

He didn't stir. She tucked her fingers around the waistband of his tunic, and pulled it down around his hips. Picking up the syringe, she slid the needle gently into the skin of his buttocks.

"Wake up, please," she whispered, and slammed the shot of vitamin B-12b into him.

* * *

"I can tell you?"

"You can tell me what you like." Arthur's voice was cajoling. "I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"You won't?"

"No, I won't." Arthur was struggling to keep his patience. He looked at Jensen. "Just tell me what you know!"

Jensen smiled. "You really want to?"

"Yes!"

Jensen looked at him. "OK, first, we did this to her-"

Arthur screamed as the bullet tore through his thigh. Staggering slightly, the pain threatened to engulf him. He swallowed, Jensen looked at him, shocked.

* * *

Eames began to stir. "Huugh?"

"Eames?" Fran's voice was tense; she'd already re-filled the syringe. "Eames, its Fran. Can you hear me?"

The Forger's eyes were flickering. "Wha-ermm-huh…"

She swallowed. "Eames, its Fran. You were sedated, you've had a shot of vit b-12. It should have helped re-start your system."

His eyes flickered. Fran took a deep breath.

"OK, Eames," she muttered, "you asked for it. Second dose is what you're getting!"

* * *

Arthur gripped his thigh – the blood was oozing. He checked his watch – Fran had twenty minutes left until the kick. He closed his eyes, starting to feel nauseas with the pain.

"I've hurt you." Jensen's face was ashen. "Oh, I didn't mean to-" he turned the gun, and put it in his mouth.

"No!" Arthur shouted, fear slicing through the pain. "God, No!"


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Jensen opened his eyes. He gasped slightly, unable at first to take in the walls of the office. Then he turned, and saw the four sleeping figures, all slumped in various positions.

He looked at the IV trailing out of his arm. Whimpering, he gave it a hard tug, and yanked it out. Then, sliding off his chair, he moved to a corner of the office, pressed his knees to his chest, and began to sob.

* * *

Arthur blinked. This couldn't be happening.

The pain from the bullet wound was settling into a dull, persistent throb. Grimacing, he clutched at it, trying to stem the blood. As it slowed to trickle, he tried to steady his breathing.

He looked over at where Jensen's body was lying. He swallowed. Jensen had lifted the gun, put it in his mouth, and fired. Arthur felt sick to the pit of his stomach.

The Point Man turned and looked at the still sleeping bodies of Eames, Fran, and Cobb. They were still in their own unconscious. And Jensen was awake.

He looked at his watch. Ten minutes. He then looked at Cobb's sleeping body. Determination began to etch itself across the Point Man's face. Crawling over to the PASIV, he pulled out the final IV line. Placing it into his arm, he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Eames? Can you hear me?"

The Forger groaned, and rolled over. He squinted, as the bright light blazed into his eyes. He tried to focus on Fran's face.

"Wha-?"

"You were under sedation. You're coming out of it." Her voice was firm, but relief was starting to course through her. She gave him a little shake.

"Fran…?"

"Yes?"

He grabbed her arm, and began to pull her towards him. She hesitated, then recognising the need for human contact from the Forger, allowed herself to be pulled close to him.

"You came for me." His voice was low. She swallowed.

"I did." She tried to make her voice light hearted. "Eames, we have to go. We have" – she looked at her watch – "ten minutes until we wake up. Can you walk?"

Wincing slightly, he pushed himself off the bed. She assisted him. Despite her heeled boots, she was easily a good six inches shorter than the Forger. He leaned on her, heavily.

"OK." She took a deep breath. "Let's get out-"

The door swung open. Another white coated figure was framed in the doorway, glaring at them.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

* * *

Bottomless. Nothing but black, bottomless space.

Arthur looked around, his breath catching in his throat. If he and Fran were correct – and he believed they were – then in the coma, the deepest, darkest part of someone's subconscious would manifest. Swallowing, he suddenly realised that Cobb's deepest fear was that of being alone, and abandoned.

He turned. He couldn't see anywhere to go. It was hopeless. He rubbed his face with his hand. He turned ,and nearly fell over an object.

Arthur began to stiffen. He knew what was inside. His heart racing, he began to feel along the edges for anything he could use to pry it open. He ran his hands over it.

Smooth. Nothing.

* * *

"We're leaving." Fran kept her voice steady as she supported Eames. The white coated figure glared at her.

"I don't think so." His voice was calm, almost robotic. "He leaves when its time."

"It is." Fran's voice had an edge to it.

The projection pulled out a gun. "Oh really?" Taking aim, he fired at them. The bullet went straight into Eames' chest; he groaned and collapsed to the floor.

The projection smirked.

"Your turn."

* * *

Arthur banged on the lid. Nothing. No response. His heart was beginning to race.

"Cobb?" His voice was barely audible. "Cobb? Do you hear me in there?"

* * *

Fran opened her eyes, and exhaled. She was back in the warehouse. Beside her, Eames was stirring. She rubbed her forehead – her head was beginning to ache slightly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something trickle. Turning her head, her eyes widened.

"Oh, my God."

* * *

He couldn't breathe. He was suffocating.

Cobb closed his eyes.

* * *

Fran pushed herself out of her seat, and winced as she took in Jensen. _No hope_, she thought. She then turned to Arthur.

"Christ, what happened out here?" She muttered. Pulling off her suit jacket, she began to wrap it around the Point Man's shattered thigh. She then noticed the IV trailing out of his arm.

"Oh, Arthur." She resisted an urge to slap his inert form. "Why the hell couldn't you wait?"

Arthur ran his fingers under the edge of the box. He felt a latch, and his breath caught in his throat. He pushed it, and suddenly, the lid began to lift.

* * *

"Dom!" The Point Man's voice echoed, disintegrating in the cast space. He began to shake the Extractor. "Dom, wake up! Please!"

Eames groaned. Fran looked over. He began to sit up. "Oh, bloody hell…"

She smiled wryly. "I'd assist you, but I've got my hands full."

The Forger turned his head. "Jesus. What on earth-?"

"You were attacked, by Jensen' projection of his own boyfriend." Her voice was curt. "You and Cobb underwent sedation in the dream. According to Arthur, you both went into coma."

Eames looked at her. "And now what-?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. We're still in the first layer. Arthur has killed the projection. But by the looks of it, he also killed Jensen."

Eames shook his head. "What is wrong with him?"

Fran looked at him. "Eames. The projection is called Rafe. Does that mean anything to you?"

The Forger narrowed his eyes, looking at the psychiatrist and then Arthur's inert form.

"Oh, yes. Means a lot."

* * *

Arthur was ready to give up. A crushing sense of failure and loss was beginning to descend. He grabbed Cobb, and tried to shake him again.

"Cobb!"

Nothing.

Arthur swallowed, then reached for his gun.

"OK. It's the only way." Putting the gun against Cobb's forehead, he closed his eyes and fired.

* * *

Fran tightened the tourniquet around Arthur's thigh. "There."

Eames raised his eyebrows. "He'll be ok when he wakes up."

"I hope so." She checked her watch. "We have –twenty minutes until the dream ends."

The Forger got up. "Bloody hell. This is a mess."

Suddenly, a choking noise behind them made them jump. Fran turned. "Dom!"

His eyes flickered. Eames went over. "Its ok, Dom, you're going to be ok." He helped the Extractor move to a sitting position. "Where's Arthur?"

Fran looked over. "Still in the dream."

Eames shrugged. "Lets wake him up."

* * *

With a jolt, Arthur's eyes flew open. He realised, with a sinking feeling, he was back in Fran's office. He rubbed his face, and then became aware of a whimpering, moaning sound coming from the corner of the room.

Jensen was sitting in the corner still, his legs pulled up close to his chest. He was rocking back and forth.

"Oh, Jesus…" Arthur whispered. He looked at the man. "Whatever you know, its never going to come out now."

* * *

Cobb was coughing, Eames moved over to him. "Dom. Its ok, take it easy."

Fran looked at him. "What-?"

Eames shook his head. "Best not to ask. How long?"

She swallowed. "Five minutes until the sedative wears out."

"Right. Just come over here."

She complied. Leaning back in the seat, she closed her eyes.

* * *

A sudden gasping noise attracted the Point Man's attention. He'd been on the floor of the Office, trying to think of how he could persuade Jensen to focus on his face, when the other three had started to come out of the dream state.

Swallowing, he turned. Cobb looked pale and shaken, and Eames' face was ashen. Fran's lip quivered, and she was clearly trying to keep her feelings composed.

Arthur looked over. "Cobb, I-"

He stopped. The Extractor's face was wearing an expression of disappointment. And something Arthur had never seen on his face before – defeat.

"The journal." Cobb's voice was toneless. "I never got to look inside the damn journal!"

Fran turned. "The journal?"

"Yes! I found a journal in his apartment – that was where we could have found out-" He broke off, glaring at Arthur.

"You-"

"Dom," Fran interrupted. "We have to get Jensen some medical attention. Look at him!" The Extractor turned, taking in the whimpering, shaking wreck of a man.

Cobb nodded. "I agree. But we'll never be able to extract from him again." He looked at Arthur. "Have you got anything you want to say?"

Arthur swallowed. "No, Dom, I don't."

"Good." The Extractor looked at him with a seething fury. "Because, right now, I don't want to hear it."

"Dom, please-" Arthur swallowed. "We can salvage this, I know we can!"

Cobb looked at Arthur.

"Just get out. Now."


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Fran rubbed her face with the towel, and shrugged into her bathrobe. The cool shower had been a welcome relief after the trauma of the extraction.

She walked into her bedroom, and sat in front of her vanity unit. As she opened a pot of moisturiser, flashbacks of the scenes in her office began to crowd into her mind. She put her fingers into the cold cream, and shivered.

* * *

"Well, that's it." Eames' voice was flat, unemotional. "Its over. Finished." He turned to look at Jensen, who was mewling like a frightened kitten. "What has happened to him?"

Fran knelt down, and tried to peer into his eyes, but he blocked her hand and kept curling himself up. "Trauma." Her tone was businesslike. "I think what he saw has –"

"Unhinged him?" Eames supplied. "It was a dream-"

"Yes, but when you have psychosis, your grasp on reality is tenuous to begin with." She paused. "He's convinced himself that what he saw was real. That he really saw Arthur shoot his boyfriend. He doesn't realise it was only a projection."

Arthur swallowed. "Well, I was-"

"You were what?" Furious, Cobb turned to the Point Man, his eyes flashing. "You were what, Arthur? Are you going to try and justify yourself? Because part of me is dying to hear it!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Arthur looked angry. "Was I supposed to go up against the wall whilst Rafe enjoyed himself? He was capable of anything!"

"You were supposed to stick to the plan!" Cobb's tone was the angriest Arthur had ever heard. "You were supposed to be in the dream, with me, helping me look to extract from him! Instead, you went wild! You went after him, you drew the projection out – and we had to go and help you!"

"I took care of it!" Arthur's face was turning from white to red. "I got away from them – you and Eames didn't have to come after me!"

"Oh," Cobb's jaw dropped slightly. "Oh, so you're saying you would have been perfectly happy to let two psychopaths torment you in a dream? They could have done anything!"

"But they didn't!" Arthur shouted back. "I got away!"

"Yes, and we got trapped." Eames' voice was low, with a chill to it. "You ran away, we didn't know that. Cobb and I end up going into the worst parts of our subconscious. And it was all thanks to you, Arthur." He stepped forward. "You put us all at risk. Including Fran. Including Ariadne. Who, in case you hadn't noticed, isn't here."

"I didn't mean for this to happen, look, I'm sor-"

"Save it." Cobb's voice cut like a lash. "Just- save your pathetic, sorry excuses, Arthur. I don't want to hear them. I had Jensen's journal. I could have read it, if you hadn't done what you did. I went into coma, without reading it. And now, we're out of the dream, and he's so traumatised, he's locked in. I can never extract from him again. I have to explain to the Caddicks that we'll never find their daughter."

"Look," Arthur was beginning to feel cornered. "Look, I'm sorry. I did what I thought was right, we were in unchartered territory. None of us knew what we really getting into-"

"You thought!" Cobb was incandescent. "No, you didn't think, and that's why we are where we are! You can explain to the Caddicks why this extraction is a failure. You can take the rap for it. Because this is down to you, and I am sic-"

Arthur had heard enough. His fist thrust out and punched the Extractor. Hard. Cobb staggered back, a trickle of blood forming on his top lip.

"Don't you dare blame me for this." The Point Man's voice was ice. "I told you that this case was too dangerous. Ariadne didn't want to do it, even the shrink you've hired has reservations! But, no, this was your chance to play to your ego again. You led us into a situation with no way out with Fischer. And you led us into one again with this. And again, its all because you think only of yourself and whats important to you. Being seen as the big man, and the big hero. And forget what the rest of us thought."

He picked up the PASIV. Fran stepped forward. "Arthur-"

"Save it." His tone was curt. He turned and walked out. Cobb was breathing hard, his face white. Fran turned and followed Arthur.

"Arthur!"

"Forget it, Fran."

"Arthur!" Fran broke into a run, and grabbed his shoulder. "You can't do this! You can't keep on trying to run away from this!"

"Excuse me?"

Fran looked at him. "You need to calm down, and talk to Cobb. You can't just leave it like this!"

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"No." She glared at him. "Its my opinion as myself. If you walk away from Cobb and Eames now, you may never be able to go back. Think about it."

Arthur looked at her. "Its my decision."

"It's a bad one!"

"Well, as you've seen demonstrated, _doctor" - _she flinched at the amount of venom in the final word – "I make bad decisions. Its what Cobb clearly paid me for!"

He shrugged her hand off, and continued. She looked after the retreating figure, her heart sinking.

* * *

A loud knock at the door made her jump. "Just a minute!" She hastily rubbed the moisturiser into her face, and got up.

She opened the door, peering through it cautiously. "Eames?"

"Fran." The Forger's tone was apologetic. "I'm sorry for coming over like this. But, well, as I've been discharged from my inside job, and I don't think Arthur wants me there tonight, I thought…" his voice trailed off, and she picked up on a flash of vulnerability.

"Come in." She pulled the door open.

"Thank you." He licked his top lip, and she led him into the living room.

"Drink?"

"Won't say no."

"Scotch?"

"Wonderful."

"Take a seat."

The Forger settled into an easy chair, and gratefully accepted the tumbler of amber liquid. He raised his glass. "T o…bollocks. To getting absolutely smashed tonight and forgetting this ever happened."

She smiled. "I'll drink to that."

The Scotch left a pleasant, burning sensation in her stomach. She looked at Eames. "So…whats going to happen?"

The Forger shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest. Cobb is probably in a rage; Arthur the same. They are –"

"Both stubborn?"

"Yes."

"Always keen to think they're in the right?"

"Yes." He started to smile. "You know, Fran, you should be a psychiatrist!"

She laughed. "Touche."

Eames took a long swallow of Scotch. "I have no idea whats going to happen. The extraction failed. And whether it was because Cobb should never have taken the job on, or Arthur behaved like an idiot, or Cobb thinks Arthur's an idiot – I don't care, at this precise moment. There is something else…"

His voice trailed off. Silence.

"Yes?"

Eames put the glass on the floor, twisting his hands together. "Fran…when I was in that place…if you hadn't come to find me…"

"You would have woken up, I'm sure."

"But I might not have done." His tone was honest. "You…saved my life, effectively. Thank you."

"I did what I thought I needed to do." Her tone was light. "Cobb was gone; Arthur was, well-"

"Cobb would have come out of necessity; Arthur the same. You came because you wanted to."

She dropped her eyes to the floor. "What makes you think that?"

"The fact you hardly know me, but you were willing to take the risk."

"Well, risks make life exciting."

"They do." Eames' tone was low. "And that's why I'm going to take one now."

Getting up, he moved over to her, and circled his arm round her waist. Reciprocating, she pulled his head down, leading to a passionate, explosive kiss.

"Risks," Fran spoke, her voice throaty. "Are worth taking. Come on."

Taking his hand, she led him to her bedroom. With a push to the door, the rest of the world was firmly shut out.

* * *

Arthur sat hunched in a chair, trying to calm down. He couldn't believe how the extraction had imploded, or how Cobb had reacted.

He rubbed his face. Ariadne. Where was she? He picked up his cellphone, and dialled. After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail.

A slight sob escaped his lips. He'd never felt so alone. Eames had not come back, and he knew that Cobb would not welcome him. He felt ashamed, but still angry. The case, as he kept reminding himself, was Cobb's idea.

But there was another angle. The case wasn't over. Suddenly, Arthur realised how the extraction could be pulled back. Getting up, he walked over to his laptop, switched it on, and booted it. The machine clicked and whirred as it came into life.

"Internet," Arthur mumbled. "OK. Now, Rafe…where are you?"


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Ari, its Cobb. Please ring me. I need to talk to you. OK, thanks. Bye."

Cobb clicked off, and exhaled. Walking to his liquor cabinet, he poured himself a scotch. Taking the glass, he went to sink into a soft, overstuffed chair.

He closed his eyes. The strain of the last few days was beginning to sink in, and his hands started to shake. He took a hasty sip of Scotch, and then pulled his cellphone out again.

Taking a deep breath, he punched in a number. After several rings, the voicemail kicked in.

"_Hi, Fran Roberts. Please leave a message, thanks. Talk to you soon."_

Cobb rubbed his face with his hands. Picking up the glass, he took another sip.

* * *

Arthur picked up his mug, and sipped slowly at the hot, black liquid. He couldn't switch off, couldn't relax. His mind was ticking like an undetonated bomb. There was something – something tugging at the back of his mind. Something nibbling at it like a ferocious shark. The extraction…something-

Opening his laptop, he made a few clicks with the mouse, and connected to the internet. Rafe. He needed to identify him, confirm he wasn't simply a projection.

Suddenly he remembered. He put the mug down, his eyes widening.

Jensen had made a comment – a comment about Arthur. Closing his eyes, Arthur tried to remember. Jensen had commented –

"_You're just his type."_

_Just his type_. Arthur began to think, frantically. _It was only a projection, _he tried to calm himself.

But what a projection. Arthur felt a slight chill as he remembered the unmistakably lecherous way Rafe had leered at him. The look on his face had been one of sheer lustful greed – as though Arthur were prime steak he'd ordered in a restaurant.

And those eyes. They'd been black, bottomless pits. There was no heart there. Arthur gritted his teeth. The man was a complete psychopath. No feeling, no surface.

Arthur began to click the laptop keys. Fran had confirmed she'd deliberately misdiagnosed Jensen – he guessed she had grafted part of Rafe's identity onto him. He googled the place where Fran had claimed Jensen had worked. It was a place to start, he reasoned, and even if Rafe, or whoever he actually was, didn't work here, Arthur was sure he could find a way from this point.

"You're a chemist," Arthur muttered under his breath. "Organics."

The image of DoreRobson Ltd filled the screen. Arthur began to scroll. An established chemical manufacturers. He started to look for any type of contacts. After a few clicks, he found "personnel", and clicked.

"Please be here," he muttered. A list of "employees" came up, and he began to click.

The first four clicks gleaned nothing, but as he moved onto the fifth, his hand froze.

A face was filling the screen. A handsome, coldly arrogant one. Arthur looked at him – black shoulder length hair, dark eyes. Swallowing, he began to read the synopsis:

"_Mr Rafe Lloyd is one of our premier Chemists. An MSc graduate of Columbia, he specialises in the production of organic compound bases for pharmaceuticals. Mr Lloyd is an expert in helping to form new compounds for sedatives and tranquilisers." _

"So that's how you know about sedatives!" Arthur banged his hand on the table. "Jesus, you're a total-"

Then another thought clicked in. The projection's interactions with him had made him wonder. He'd shown no interest in Fran at all – an attractive woman. He'd been solely focused on Arthur. He'd teased him, pouting provocatively. Desire had snaked in those dark eyes. Arthur had picked up that this was a man who may be bisexual, but clearly preferred men. And the look of anger in his eyes when Arthur had refused to kiss him – the Point Man shuddered at the memory.

But he'd apparently killed Chandra Caddick – in a fit of jealous, sexually fuelled rage. So what was-

Suddenly, he realised. He sat up, his heart pounding.

"She wasn't the one you wanted," he gasped out, "you son-of-a-bitch! It was her _boyfriend_ you wanted! You wanted him – and she was in the way! You killed him – and then had to kill her!"

Arthur felt his heart pound. Finally, they had a motive – a concrete motive. This wasn't a date that had gone wrong – this was a date which had never been fated to happen.

"What did you do?" Arthur spoke to the unflinching, composed photograph. "Did you spot him first? Or did you hook up with her, hoping that she'd have someone you'd like?" He sank back into the seat. Chandra Caddick's mother had insisted she hadn't a boyfriend- why had they swallowed every thing they'd heard? "And then what did you do?" He demanded of the screen. "Did you take him out, seduce him, whiles she followed? Or did you turn up at her place, and try and take them both?"

Arthur took a swallow of coffee, his head starting to pound. He realised that he'd been right – this case was more dangerous, and went deeper, than they'd ever anticipated. They weren't searching for a desperate man who'd accidentally killed someone – they were searching for someone who would go to any lengths to get what he wanted – including seduction, rape and murder.

Arthur took another swallow of coffee, and got up. He reached for his car keys.

* * *

She stretched, and let him nuzzle against her neck. All the tension she'd felt was beginning to dissipate.

"Hmmm," she murmured.

"Hmmmm….indeed."

She couldn't stop her lips from curving into a smile. "Well, that was…"

"Fantastic, amazing, bloody incredible…and you weren't too bad yourself," the Forger commented, an unmistakable grin on his face.

She lifted herself up on her elbow. "Be careful, Mr Eames. I'm a psychiatrist. We're all obsessed with sex, remember?"

Eames grinned. "God, I love doctors. So disgustingly clinical…" His words were stopped when she leant down and kissed him, hard.

"And there's the rubber gloves. And the white coat." She raised her eyebrows suggestively. "All freshly starched."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Kinky, I must say."

She leaned back on the pillows. "Eames…this all feels…"

"Wonderful, Fran. It feels wonderful. I'm with someone I like – and respect." He sighed. "Its been…a long time."

She fell silent, allowing him to nuzzle her shoulder. "Eames… about what happened…"

He was tracing her back with his finger. "Fran. I've known Dom and Arthur a long time. They will get over this. We failed. We're going to have to live with it."

She was about to respond, when the intercom buzzed. She sighed. "I have to go."

"Of course," Eames kissed her shoulder.

Getting up, Fran reached for her bathrobe. The intercom buzzed again. She pressed it. "Its open!"

A few seconds later, there was a pounding on the front door. She called to Eames. "I guess its Cobb!"

"He had to find out sooner or later!" The Forger called back.

Smiling, Fran began to unlatch the door. Her eyes widened when she saw who was standing there.

"Arthur?"


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Who is it, Fran?" Eames suddenly began to appear, clad only in boxers and a shirt. His eyebrows raised as he saw Arthur, who flushed with embarrassment.

"Listen, if this is a bad time…" Arthur's voice faltered. He'd noted the flirtation between Eames and the psychiatrist, but he'd never assumed that anything would actually happen.

"No, come in." Fran's tone was insistent. "I'll just go and put something more presentable on." She turned to walk back into the bedroom, and Arthur followed her into the apartment.

"Have a seat!" She called over her shoulder.

Arthur wandered into the living room, noting its spareness, decorated in light pastel shades. He sat down in a small armchair, his eyes idly wandering over shelves of books. He tried to keep his composure as Eames wandered in.

"Well," the Forger sank into a chair. "Evening."

Arthur looked at him. "Evening."

"So, what brings you here?" Eames gazed at him. "Anything in particular?"

"Yes." Arthur swallowed. "Look, about today-"

"Its finished." The Forger cut him off. "Forget it, Arthur. We can't go back. Cobb will probably tell the family tomorrow."

Arthur made a frustrated grimace. "Its not over Eames. There's still Rafe."

The Forger sat up. "Rafe?"

"Jensen's boyfriend."

"I don't think Jensen was his boyfriend." Eames fished for his cigarettes. "Jensen was his toy and fuckbuddy, from what I can gather."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, and then paused as Fran walked in, casually dressed in black jeans and t shirt. She was carrying a tray, on which where three mugs and a cafetiere of black coffee. She sat, and picked up the cafetiere.

"How do you like it?"

"Black, please." Arthur swallowed. "No sugar."

"Yes," Eames commented drily, "he's sweet enough already."

Arthur glared. Fran ignored their latent hostility and handed Arthur a mug of steaming black liquid.

"Thanks." Arthur took it gratefully. An uncomfortable silence began to fall.

Fran broke it. "What do you want, Arthur?"

"I want…" he paused. "To talk about another angle with this case."

Eames sighed with irritation. "There is no case, Arthur. Leave it."

"No, Eames. Jensen is no longer part of this case." Arthur looked at the Forger. "But there is still Rafe…and he is the one we want."

Fran took a deep breath. "Arthur. I know you probably feel guilty about what happened – but you need to accept that-"

"You make a lot of assumptions." Arthur broke in. "Yes, I do think what happened today could have gone better. I should never have gone after Jensen."

"Too right." Eames' voice was low. Arthur flushed.

"But Jensen was never the one we wanted."

"No, but he was the gateway." Fran's tone was reasonable. "And now that's been shut. For good. There's no way you'll be able to extract from him again."

"No, but-" Arthur looked at Eames. "When you were inside, did Jensen ever mention Rafe."

"No," the Forger spoke honestly. "As I told you, he mentioned what could have been the murder – it was another prisoner who mentioned Rafe."

"But in the dream-"

"He was a projection. The epitome of what Jensen maybe wants his boyfriend to be like. "

"He exists."

Fran put her mug down, and looked at the Point Man. "How do you know?"

Arthur swallowed. "You told us that Jensen was supposedly a chemist. I looked at the company website. Rafe Lloyd is a chemist. He specialises in sedatives for pharmecueticals."

Fran's jaw dropped. "The sedatives in the dream-"

"He exists, he's real." Arthur looked at them both. "And he's the only key we have to where Chandra Caddick is, and her boyfriend."

Eames took a slug of coffee. "I thought you said Chandra and her boyfriend. Would you care to-"

"Rafe is into men." Arthur spoke flatly. "The bisexuality – maybe it does exist, but it's a front. He uses it to get to the women, and then he seduces the men."

Eames looked at him. "You mean Lloyd-"

"He was after her boyfriend." Arthur's tone was calm. "He befriended her, seduced her, and then went for him."

"According to Cobb," Eames' tone was dismissive, "Chandra Caddic didn't have a boyfriend."

Arthur exhaled in exasperation ."No, Eames, she told her mother she didn't have a boyfriend. Did you tell your parents everything at 24?"

Eames shrugged. "Nope."

"There you go."

"Maybe he wasn't her boyfriend…" Fran spoke thoughtfully. "Maybe he was just a casual date. Someone she knew – someone that Rafe Lloyd also knew."

Eames exhaled. "Right. So we assume that Rafe is a predator who was after the guy and the girl – and killed them both to avoid detection-"

"-and then set up his 'fuckbuddy' to take the rap," Arthur finished. "He knows where she is. And God knoes how many others."

"Fine." Eames looked at Arthur. "Tell the police."

"We can't." Fran spoke sharply.

"Because then everything is going to come out." Arthur looked at Fran. "The false misdiagnosis, everything. We have no choice."

"Choice of what?" Eames' tone was low.

"We have to find Rafe. Perform an extraction."

Eames sighed. "Very noble, Arthur, but you're forgetting a few things. One, Cobb and you aren't speaking, and two, Ariadne has disappeared. No Extractor, no Architect."

Arthur swallowed. "I'll find Aridane. You deal with Cobb."

"Arthur." Eames looked at him. "You don't get it, do you? We could have been killed, suffered serious damage. And can I just point out – you lied to us."

Arthur tensed.

"I didn't lie." He tried to keep his voice calm.

"No, you just…mislead us." Eames' tone was cool, but his words bit like bullets. "You didn't tell us that you wanted to play the hero. If it was to impress Ariadne, you failed. Miserably."

Arthur stood up. "That was low."

"Yes." Eames glared at him. "I will talk to Cobb – but not until he's calmed down. This is over, Arthur. Forget it."

Arthur turned. "Fine. I'll just deal with this myself."

"You'll get yourself killed!" Eames walked after him. "Arthur, calm down. This is your bloody ego talking again, I am-"

"What, Eames?" Arthur's eyes flashed. "You're what? I suggest you go back to bed. I'll handle this case. The one who really pushed for it won't want to know – but I think a little something called moral obligation to the Caddicks means we have to see this through!"

"You self-righteous little-" Eames swallowed. "Fine. Go ahead. Call us when its over."

Arthur nodded, and unlatched Fran's door. "Don't worry, Eames. I will."


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb sighed as the door buzzed. He'd hoped the team would just leave him peace. He shifted and squinted; sunlight was streaming in through the blinds.

He blinked. The door buzzed again.

"OK, I'm coming!" He shouted. His throat felt rough, scratchy. He cleared it and swallowed. Lifting himself out of the chair, he moved towards the door, and pressed.

A few minutes later, knocking was heard. Sighing, Cobb pulled the door open.

"Oh, its you."

* * *

Ariadne bit her fingernail. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone.

* * *

"So," Cobb turned to the Forger as he began to make coffee. "What brings you here at-" he paused. "What time is it, exactly?"

"Half eight." The Forger was freshly showered and dressed. "I thought I'd better come and check that you-"

"Hadn't drunk myself into oblivion over this?" Cobb's smile was wry. "Trust me, a failed extraction does not crush me like it would have done."

"What about Arthur?"

Cobb concentrated on measuring out coffee granules. "Arthur is a grown adult, he needs to live with his choices."

"I mean," Eames spoke calmly, "What if we can still perform the extraction? We'll need Arthur."

Cobb paused, letting the coffee measurer rest on the counter. "If we need to perform another extraction, well I guess we need a new Point Man."

"I don't mean just any extraction. I meant-"

"I know what you meant, Eames." Cobb looked at the Forger. "I think we need to just walk away from this one. I'll go and see the Caddicks, explain to them that Jensen is too psychotic, and we couldn't get the information."

"We did."

"What?" Cobb pushed the cafetiere plunger down. "Eames, stop speaking in riddles. Its still early, and I haven't had much sleep."

"Neither have I," Eames said, "but I can still recognise one important fact that that extraction gave us."

"Which is?"

"Rafe." Eames spoke simply. "The projection. He's the key."

"If he exists."

"He does."

"And how do you know?"

"Because Arthur told us yesterday and-"

Cobb frowned, puzzled. "Arthur didn't tell us yesterday, I didn't see him after the…" his voice trailed off, as he suddenly realised who Eames had also meant. He swallowed. "Oh, I see. I take it that this isn't serious?"

Eames flinched slightly. "Please don't make assumptions, Dom. I've met someone I like and respect. Doesn't happen very often."

Cobb shrugged, tiredly. "OK, whatever. I have a team that's fallen apart, an extraction that's failed…I can handle it."

Eames smiled. "Good. But…do you want to hear what Arthur had to say?"

"If Arthur wants to talk to me he can come and find me."

"Dom-"

"No, Eames. I accept that this job was dangerous, and part of me does regret even agreeing to it. But if he'd stuck to the plan- " he shook his head. "We could have-"

"I know," Eames interrupted. "I know, it went wrong. But, Dom, please-"

Cobb turned to Eames, smiling sadly.

"As I said. If he wants to find me, he can find me."

Eames shrugged. "I tried."

"And you didn't succeed." Cobb's voice was hollow. "Eames, please. I'm as upset about this as everyone else. I know I need to talk to Arthur. But not right now."

The Forger swallowed. "Dom. I appreciate that. But, I really think you ought to talk to him sooner rather than later. He has a hunch-"

"Eames." Cobb looked at him. "Drop it."

* * *

"Name, please?"

Arthur swallowed. "Its Aaron. Aaron Davis. I'm here on behalf of _The Science Chronicle._"

The receptionist smiled. "Oh, yes, of course – you want to talk the Pharmaceutical team. One moment, please. Take a seat."

Arthur sat down in one of the white chairs in the lobby of DoreRobson, marvelling at the clinical sterility of the building. The glass doors whizzed smoothly open and shut, whilst the employees almost seemed to glide across the highly polished tile floor. He looked up as a man approached him.

"Mr Davis?"

Arthur nodded, and rising to his feet, took the proferred hand. "Adam Walters. I'm Vice –President, in charge of Pharmeceuticals."

Arthur swallowed. "Pleased to meet you."

"Come this way." Walters walked quickly, and he literally hurried Arthur through a set of side doors. The smell of antiseptic was heavy in the air.

"So, why this new article?"

Arthur marshalled his words. "Well, there seems to be a lot of concern about how sedatives can be used and abused. For example, the use of rohypnol. I intend to use this article to dispel a few myths."

Walters nodded, pleased. "Good. I am upset the way this area of medicinal science is being demonised. I mean, sedatives have helped people for years."

Arthur nodded again. He was beginning to realise that Walters was more of a businessman than a Scientist, and as such, he was easy to flatter.

"So, who can I talk to?" Arthur hoped the impatience in his voice wasn't detected.

"I thought I'd take you to our best." Walters ushered Arthur into the elevator. Arthur was trying to remain perfectly composed.

Three days had passed since the extraction – he'd not heard from any of the team. He'd chosen to focus upon finding Rafe. After much deliberation, he'd concluded a face to face meeting with the man in his workplace would be more profitable than trying to meet him at a club. And also arouse less suspicion.

The elevator rose two floors. Walters punched the release button; the doors opened. As they stepped out, Arthur adjusted his black suit jacket. Following Walters, he arrived at the door of a room marked "LAB 2.1"

Walters keyed in a number code, the door clicked and released.

The lab was surprisingly open – clean, and full of young figures, not all of whom, Arthur noted, where white coated. Walters was leading him towards a back office, with glass doors. A man was inside, seated so he was facing the wall. He was talking on the phone.

"-I need you to send me that shipment. Yes, I am aware I'm asking a great deal, but its imperative we receive it to complete this part of the research. Yes, I am prepared to pay more. Thank you, goodbye."

The phone clattered into its hook, and Arthur heard the man exhale. All he could make out was the crown of glossy, raven black hair. He swallowed.

"Rafe!" Walters was almost avuncular. "I have a journalist here, who'd like to speak to you. Aaron Davis, from _Science Chronicle."_

"Really?" Rafe was pouring over a sheet of data. "Well, I do love journalists. They make great test subjects."

He swung the chair round, and Arthur's breath caught in his throat. Those piercing green eyes seemed to go right through him. He stood up, and Arthur realised that whilst his smile was warm, his eyes were ice.

"I was joking," he said, offering Arthur a long, finely fingered hand. "Rafe Lloyd. What can I do for you?"


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

"Hello?"

"Cobb?"

"Ari?" Cobb gripped the side of the table. "Where are you?"

"I'm in Vancouver." There was a pause. "What's been happening?"

Cobb swallowed. "Well, the extraction failed. Arthur and I…we're not…"

"It failed?"

"Yes." Cobb paused. "Ari, listen. Do come back. I'd like to talk to you."

"OK." Her voice was uncertain. "I'll fly back in a couple of days."

"Thank you." He hung up, and breathed.

Re-opening the cell, he began to punch in Arthur's number.

* * *

"I'm sorry about that," Rafe Lloyd laughed, beguilingly. "Its just…I have a love hate relationship with journalists."

"As in you love to hate them?" Arthur commented, dryly.

Rafe smiled. "Oh, you're good. I just feel a lot of public mistrust with science is due to mis-reporting. A lot of people are ignorant of what pharmacy actually is, and its benefits. They just see us as these made scientists brewing up mind-frying dosages."

Arthur smiled in return. "Point taken. Mr Lloyd, I'm not going to mis-report what you do. I'm very keen to find out what it is you do."

Rafe looked at him. "Thank you. Call me Rafe. Let me give you the guided tour."

Arthur's phone buzzed. "Excuse me." Without even looking at the screen, he switched it off. He pulled a face. "Hazard of the job."

"I can imagine," Rafe answered. "Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, water? I promise not to poison it."

Arthur stiffened. There was no doubt. Rafe Lloyd was actively flirting with him. He swallowed.

"Water would be fine," he answered, calmly.

"Excellent." Rafe smiled. "I'll get you a glass."

Arthur nodded, as the slim man walked past him to the small kitchen at the back of his office. Arthur tried not to tense. He turned as the partially open door to the office swung wide open. An attractive red head stood there.

"Oh…hi!" She looked slightly confused. "I thought Rafe was in here…?"

"I'm in the back!" A voice called.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Its just I have those dispatch sheets for you to sign…"

"OK, no problem." Rafe bustled through, holding a glass of ice water. "Here you go," he said with a friendly grin to Arthur, who accepted it. He then turned to the red head.

"Olivia, this is Mr Davis, a journalist."

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "Oh, I see! We're used to you guys. After Chandra disappeared, we were swarming with them."

Arthur stiffened. Rafe, he noticed, had not flinched.

"Yes, that was a real tragedy." His voice was calm. "One day she's working here – the next, she's gone." He shook his head. "Some people are utterly sick, causing so much pain to her parents."

Arthur tried to maintain his composure. "You knew her?"

"Of course." He nodded. "She was temping for us in Admin. Used to bring me the data reports."

Arthur looked at him. "It was a tragedy."

"Absolutely." Rafe nodded. "But I can't get over what happened to her. I mean, to cause a young woman's disappearance, that's bad enough. But to never admit to what you did? That's just sick." He shook his head.

Arthur was stunned. He was beginning to have doubts.

"Anyway," Rafe shook his head. "I'm sorry, we're being morbid. You're here to talk about the sedatives we make, and I'm very happy to do so."

Arthur swallowed. "Of course."

* * *

Cobb put his phone down. Arthur was not answering.

The Extractor rubbed his face. Dead end. He picked the phone up, and tried again. Switched off.

Cobb took a deep breath. He needed to speak to Arthur.

* * *

"So…that's about it." Rafe smiled. "That's the tour. This new type of sedative we're working on – the prototype should be ready in a few months."

Arthur scribbled this down. "And whats its purpose?"

"To induce very deep sleep – its intended as a prescription for severe insomniacs. There's also a possibility it might help those who are chronically anxious."

Arthur nodded.

"Well," the Point Man said cordially, "thank you. I appreciate the time you've spent with me this morning."

"No, thank you." Rafe looked at him. "There is a question I want to ask you though."

"What is it?"

"Dinner. Tomorrow?"

Arthur was taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, I know, I'm forward!" Rafe laughed. "But…there's no ring on either hand, so I've assumed you're not married…unless of course, you are in a relationship, and I'm not your type?"

Arthur swallowed. "No, I'm not in a relationship, but-" He badly wanted to say _I'm straight_, but suddenly realised that Rafe's egotism could be the key to unlocking him. He decided to play his cards carefully.

"I'm too forward. Sorry." Rafe looked abashed. "But if you won't let me buy you dinner, how about…drinks?"

"Look, this is-"

"Inappropriate. I've embarrassed you." Rafe looked at him. "But good looking men who seem to respect my work don't cross my path every day."

Arthur decided to take a gamble. "I could meet you for drinks…where?"

Rafe's face split into a grin. "There's a bar I like, called Neon. It has some…interesting sights."

Arthur looked at him. "I can meet you there."

"Good. Its on 24th and fifth. How about 8pm…tonight?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You're a fast worker."

Rafe looked at him. "I just don't let opportunities slip me by."

"Really?"

Rafe nodded. "When I see someone I like…I like to take a chance."

"Whats the dress code?"

Rafe looked at him. "You'd be over dressed."

Arthur nodded. "Point taken."

"So…I'll see you tonight then!"

"Indeed." Arthur turned and started to walk out of the office. His heart was pounding. As he left the building, he felt his knees begin to shake.

As he unlocked his car, he switched his phone on. It came to life and buzzed.

Looking at the call screen, he slid it open. "Cobb?"


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur breathed as he observed the front of Neon. He'd never been to it; it was one of the trendier bars in the neighbourhood, with a large gay clientele. He swallowed. He was apprehensive, as he knew that this evening's encounter could be the key to the entire case.

He remembered his conversation with Cobb.

"_Arthur? Finally! I really need to talk to you!"_

"_Can it wait until tomorrow? I have some things I need to do."_

"_Oh, sure. 10am OK? At the warehouse?"_

"_Yes. See you then."_

He'd hung up, not willing to share details. He unlocked the car door, and headed for the entrance. As he did so, he pulled out his cellphone, and punched in another number.

"Hi…Listen, its Arhur. I'm going to meet with Rafe. I'm at Neon, a bar downtown. I'll welcome your professional opinion later."

Clicking off, he entered.

* * *

"So you're going to try and make it up with Arthur?"

"Cut it out, Eames."

The Forger shrugged. "Just trying to work out how things might be going."

"I'm going to talk to Arthur," Cobb said evenly, "and try and find a way to resolve this. This extraction is over, but we might be able to work together on another one."

"Right." Eames sipped the Scotch Cobb had poured for him. "But you do know that he had his own theories on how the case could pan out?"

"Such as?"

"That Rafe – the projection- is the key to it all. Arthur reckons that he was never interested in Chandra Caddick."

"Oh, really? Then why'd he kill her?"

"To get to her boyfriend."

Cobb sat bolt upright. "Chandra Caddick didn't have a boyfriend."

"No, she told her parents she didn't have a boyfriend. Doesn't mean she didn't have one…and from what Arthur's said, Rafe definitely seems to prefer men."

Cobb rubbed his face. "OK, maybe he's right. But Rafe is not the one in jail. So how do we get to him exactly?"

"Well…" Eames looked at Cobb. "This is why I suggested you should call Arthur."

"I did." Cobb glared. "And we're meeting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

Cobb looked at Eames, a look of astonishment crossing over his face. "Oh, God. Eames!"

* * *

Arthur entered the bar – its décor was subdued, clearly a place for those with time and money to spend – and scanned the room. No sign.

He smoothed his hair. He hadn't gelled it back as severely as he normally did, so a little fell over his forehead. In black jeans, and a white shirt, he'd realised he was trying to look attractive…for Rafe. The thought made his skin crawl, but it was a part he had to play.

He approached the bar. A female bartender smiled at him.

"What can I get you?"

"Umm..vodka please. With tonic."

"Of course. Seven dollars."

Arthur paid and took the glass of clear liquid. As he took a sip, a man approached him.

"Hi."

"Hey." Arthur said, turning.

"You all by yourself?"

"Actually, I'm waiting for someone." The man was slightly older, he gathered. Mid 30s. He smiled at Arthur.

"You're waiting for someone? That's too bad. I would have loved it if you were waiting for me."

Suddenly, footsteps were heard. Arthur turned. Rafe was standing next to the other guy.

"Oh, Ryan," he said offhandedly, "I take it you're now interested in my new guy?"

The other man's expression darkened. "For your information, Rafe, it's a free country. I didn't realise he was your property, there's no stamp on him."

Arthur watched the interplay. Rafe's features looked sharper and more pointed in the dim lighting of the club. The other man, he could have sworn, looked nervous.

"You know, you can always join us," Rafe said, a slightly malicious lilt to his voice. "You know I hate to be greedy."

The other man's lips tightened. "You are-"

"Save it." Rafe muttered curtly. The other man turned and walked off, looking back over his shoulder. Arthur swallowed.

"I'm sorry about that," Rafe apologised. "Messy break up."

"Really?"

"No!" Rafe laughed. "We had…some fun together. But some guys…they're just bunny boilers underneath, you know? What're you drinking?"

"I'm ok." Arthur raised his glass to show it was nearly full.

Rafe nodded, and gestured to the bartender.

Arthur resumed his seat. Looking into the vodka, he tried to work out his next move.

* * *

"OK," Cobb looked at Eames. "Did Arthur say anything to you? Anything at all?"

"No," Eames said honestly. "But I bet he's gone to where he works…"

"Which means he should be home, hopefully." Cobb checked his watch. "Lets go. Now."

* * *

Arthur sat opposite Rafe. The other man smiled.

"So, Aaron, tell me about yourself."

Arthur licked his bottom lip. "Well, I am a journalist."

"I know." Rafe was looking at him. "What sort of things are you into…aside from writing for a living?"

"Well, I don't get much chance to do much aside from work," Arthur spoke truthfully.

"Really?" Rafe raised his glass. "Sounds…intense."

"It is."

"So…is there anyone special in your life?"

Arthur paused. "I thought there could be." He felt his heart twist in his chest.

Rafe looked at him. "Well, I'm glad that there isn't."

Arthur swallowed. "So, tell me about you."

"What about me?"

"Well, I know you're a chemist."

"You need to know more?" Something glittered in Rafe's eyes.

"No," Arthur said evenly. "But I'd really like to-" Suddenly his words were cut off. Rafe was placing his hand on top of Arthur's.

"Listen," Rafe leaned forward. "I think this place…its getting late. Shall we head back to mine?"

Arthur looked at him. "I need to…excuse a minute."

Getting up, he moved to the washroom.

* * *

Cobb and Eames arrived at Arthur's apartment. Cobb banged on the door. "Arthur!"

Eames squinted through the keyhole. "No lights."

"Reckon you can break in?"

"Of course." Eames pulled out his wallet, and took out a credit card. "One minute."

As soon as both men entered the apartment, Cobb noticed the light on the answering machine. Walking over, he pressed it.

"Arthur_? Fran. Listen, do not go to meet him! That's my professional opinion! Please call me."_

Cobb swallowed. Pulling out his cellphone, he began to dial.

* * *

Arthur sluiced his face, and then walked out into the hall. Rafe was approaching him, smiling.

"Hey, ready to go?"

Arthur instinctively moved his hand round to the back of his waist, and felt the comforting feel of his gun.

"Of course."


	44. Chapter 44

Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

Cobb knocked on the door. "Fran! Please, if you're there, open the door!" His voice was sounding increasingly frantic.

After a couple of minutes, the door opened. Fran looked at Cobb, slightly puzzled.

"Hi," her voice betraying confusion. "What's-?"

"Where's Arthur?" Cobb demanded, making no time for pleasantries.

Fran swallowed. "Cobb, look, calm down-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" He practically shouted. "Where's Arthur? He rang you! "

"Yes, he did." Her tone was calm. "But I didn't speak to him – he left a message, and I rang back-"

"Look, we're wasting time!" Cobb's frustration was mounting. "Just tell me what he said!"

Suddenly, Cobb felt Eames' hand on his shoulder. The Forger leaned in close.

"Don't shout at her," there was a slight warning in Eames' voice. "Please."

Cobb swallowed. "OK." His tone was calmer. "Fran – where is Arthur?"

She looked at him. "He said he meeting Rafe at a bar, downtown. Neon."

Cobb looked at her. "Thank you. What time?"

"Half seven?"

Cobb looked at his watch. "Its half eight."

Eames spoke. "Lets go. Now! Fran!"

* * *

Rafe leaned against Arthur as they left the bar. Arthur shifted and let the slightly taller man rest against his shoulder.

"You ok?" He whispered.

"Mmmm. Just thinking…your place, or mine?"

Arthur swallowed. "I've got a better idea."

Rafe giggled, an oddly high pitched sound. "Ooh. Sleazy motel? Love it! I get to go on top!"

Arthur looked at him, a feeling of revulsion passing through his body. "Yeah, I bet you'd love a sleazy motel…"

"I like sleazy everything…" Rafe slurred. "Just as long as your hot little body is pressed against mine…"

They reached Arthur's car. Unlocking the passenger door, Arthur practically pushed him in.

"Oh, I love it when they get forceful!" He giggled again. Arthur slid into the driver's seat, and as he began to turn the key in the ignition, the other man continued to slump in his seat.

"Are you allright?" Arthur spoke courteously.

"Just…sleepy." Rafe yawned. "I think the drinks in there were pretty…strong."

Arthur licked his bottom lip. "I had the same amount as you."

"Liar. You were trying to get me drunk, and its worked." The voice was clearly intended to be coquettish, but Arthur felt nothing but an increasing surge of anger towards the man. He clenched his fist – lashing out would destroy his chances.

"Maybe I was." He kept his tone non-committal. Rafe leaned over. "So…lets go!"

Arthur turned the key in the ignition. "Yes." He said through gritted teeth. "Lets."

* * *

"Cobb," Eames said calmly, "will you slow down!"

Cobb kept his eyes on the road. He didn't even seem to hear Eames. The Forger sighed.

As they approached Neon, Cobb's hands began to shake.

* * *

Ariadne sighed as she looked around the airport. The flight had been gruelling, with an unintended stopover. She fished in her pocket for her cellphone, and dialled.

No answer. Cobb had switched off. At least she still had his keys, she thought, and began to move away from baggage retrieval towards the exit.

* * *

"Here we are."

Rafe stirred. "Mmm…are we?"

"Yes. Do you want a hand?"

"Oh, that would be good. Thanks."

Arthur got out, and moving to the other side of the car, opened the door. Rafe began to get out, moving awkwardly.

"Hey," he said, blinking. "Very large place you've got."

"Oh, yes," Arthur spoke offhandedly, as he helped him to his feet.

As they entered Neon, Cobb scanned the room. "Check the men's room," he muttered to Eames.

"Right away." Eames moved off, Cobb headed to the bar, with Fran.

"Can I get you something?" A female bartender approached him.

"Information," Cobb responded. "We're looking for a friend of ours. About six feet. Thin build, dark hair…" he paused. The description was depressingly generic.

She frowned. "Can you be more specific? You've described about half our clientele."

Cobb sighed.

"Look," Fran cut in, "we think he's with one of your regulars. Tall guy, lean, long dark hair – Rafe Lloyd."

The girl's face flickered with recognition.

"Oh yeah! Rafe was in earlier – he left about half an hour ago."

"Was anyone with him?" Cobb spoke more curtly than he'd intended.

The waitress flushed. "It could be the guy you mentioned."

"Thank you." Turning, they saw Eames hurrying out to join them. The three of them made their way outside.

* * *

"Very…spacious." Rafe commented.

"Yeah, it is." Arthur watched as Rafe staggered slightly. The sedative he'd slipped into the man's drink after he'd gone to the men's room was clearly starting to have an effect. The other man was looking disorientated.

"What kind of place is this?" Rafe looked confused. "Some kind of…loft?"

"Maybe." Arthur was enigmatic.

"You've got some interesting stuff here…"

"Do you want another drink?"

"Why not?" Rafe was clearly getting increasingly out of it. Arthur swallowed, and went to the kitchenette.

"Listen…" Rafe came up behind Arthur, and started to rub his back. Arthur tensed. "You know, you haven't made a single move on me all night…"

"Maybe you should try harder."

"Maybe I should." Rafe smiled, a lopsided smirk that twisted his features.

"Here." Arthur handed him a glass of water. "Drink this. You're a little…tipsy."

"Thanks." Rafe took a gulp. "Oh man…" he leaned forward.

Suddenly, the glass slipped out of his fingers and crashed to the floor. He began to crumple. Arthru reached out and grabbed him under his arms, and began to drag him towards one of the long loungers.

"Great Chemist you are," he muttered. "Can't tell when you're being sedated."

* * *

Cobb took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. "Arthur. Open up. Now!"

No response.

"You don't think they could have gone to Rafe's?" Eames asked.

"I hope Arthur isn't that stupid," Cobb muttered. He tried again.

"Wait a minute," Fran looked at them both. "Try the warehouse."

"What?"

"Just a hunch. He wanted to meet you tomorrow morning. He's going to-"

"He's going to try the extraction himself!" Cobb turned round.

* * *

Arthur splashed water on his face, and took a deep breath. He'd studied the blueprints Ariadne had drawn up for the second layer of the dream extraction for Jensen – all he had to do was utilise it.

He walked back into the main part of the warehouse. Rafe was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Arthur studied him. In sleep, his face looked softer, more childlike. Arthur shuddered.

Swallowing, he pulled out the PASIV. Taking an IV line, he began to plug it into Rafe's arm. Then, he did the same to his own.

"OK," he muttered. "I've got two days with you, in your head. I need to find your journal."

He slammed his hand onto the PASIV, and suddenly, everything changed.


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer: Inception does not to belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Can I help you?"

Arthur blinked. A tall, thin young woman was standing in front of him. Her expression was frosty.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "What…?"

"Do you want anything? You've been sitting there for at least half an hour. If you're not going to order, I'd rather you left."

Arthur sat up. He looked around. He was sitting in a restaurant – an expensive, high class restaurant. Getting up, he thanked the waitress, whose stare seemed to become ever more glacial, and left.

As he stepped outside, he realised it was raining. _Alcohol and sedatives._ He cursed himself for having forgotten what had happened at the beginning of the Fischer job.

He looked around. He was in a cityscape – Ariadne had decided that for someone as seemingly crazy as Jensen, who this had been originally designed for, the more maze like, the better. He began to walk.

Arthur felt himself being jostled on the street. Turning, a middle aged man glared at him. Hostility. They were looking for the dreamer.

He swallowed, and began to quicken his pace. The gleaming skyscrapers and expensive looking fronts were cold. He knew that in this dream, he was completely exposed. Nowhere to really hide.

He was jostled again.

* * *

Ariadne had let herself into Cobb's apartment, and after putting her flight bag into the spare bedroom, suddenly felt nervous. She'd tried to contact him, but had only left voicemails. She'd considered contacting Arthur, but then realised that she didn't know what she could say.

She went into the kitchen, and decided to make herself a cup of coffee. She suddenly noticed that the red light on Cobb's answering machine was flashing, and without thinking, pressed it. The automatic voice stated the message had been left ten minutes previously.

"_Cobb? Arthur. I'm going to go under with Rafe Lloyd. He knows what happened, and I intend to find out. I'll be ok, don't worry about me. See you tomorrow."_

The mug she'd been holding crashed to the floor.

* * *

As Arthur walked through the rain slicked street, he realised his suit was offering him no protection. The lightweight grey fabric was becoming increasingly damp. He shivered.

More projection passed. More hostile glares.

He turned. And then he saw him. Wearing a sleek black suit, and white shirt, Rafe Lloyd was standing outside what looked like a nightclub. Arthur turned, and dodging roaring traffic, hurried across the road.

Rafe had disappeared into the club's entrance. Arthur swallowed and walked in. Deep velvet drapes hung across the door way, and Arthur had a suspicion of what type of club this was.

"Hey," a female voice snapped. "Twenty dollars."

Arthur blinked, then hurriedly paid in cash, taking a ticket. As he pushed the drapes aside, his suspicions were confirmed. Small tables and chairs were clustered round a stage, and two male dancers were gyrating on it, rubbing themselves provocatively. Arthur headed for the bar. Several men were huddled round it, and he could hear Rafe's voice:

"So, I just said, suck it bitch, what am I paying you for?" A laugh was heard in response to this, and Arthur felt his skin crawl. He reached in his pocket to feel his totem. He felt alien, conspicuous.

A bartender approached. "What do you want?"

Arthur sighed, wearily. "Water, please."

"Ice?" The tone of voice was sarcastic. Arthur bristled. The sheer hostility of the projections was starting to get to him.

"Yes," he snapped, ignoring the glare he received in return. He checked his watch. He'd been in the dream for an hour. He'd been asleep for only five minutes.

* * *

"How long is it going to take us to get there?" The nervousness in Fran's voice was audible.

Cobb cursed and hit the steering wheel. "It should take ten minutes. Thanks to this traffic, fifteen."

Fran fell silent. Eames said nothing.

* * *

Ariadne pulled on her coat. She had to get to the warehouse. Ignoring the smashed china on the floor, she left the apartment, determined to find a bus.

* * *

Arthur sipped his ice water. Rafe was the centre of a small group of men. Another, tall, good looking, and dark blonde, was talking to him. He saw Rafe reach out and touch the man's cheek.

He had to take the chance. He moved forward.

Rafe turned as he approached. "Hey." His eyes raked Arthur up and down. "Do I know you?" He asked, pleasantly enough.

Arthur gave a half smile. "I don't think so."

"No, I don't think so either…because I'd remember you." He looked at Arthur, his eyes narrowing. Arthur shifted slightly.

"All alone?" The voice was teasing.

"Yes," Arthur admitted.

"Oh, shame…listen, I'm planning on leaving soon…these guys bore me…but I'm happy to take you home with me."

Arthur blinked. The sheer predatory nature of the man seemed more explicit, more shocking, in the dream.

"You hardly know me," Arthur laughed awkwardly.

"No," Rafe's tone had a hint of coolness. "But I want to."

Arthur looked at him. If he went back to Rafe's place…he could extract. He had fought him off as a projection, he could fight him again.

"Why not?" There was a hint of a smile in Arthur's voice. "But listen…I just need to…"

Rafe nodded. "Oh, sure."

* * *

Cobb's hands clutched the wheel. His kuckles were white. Eames checked his watch. They were still easily five minutes away.

Eames cursed under his breath. Why hadn't Cobb chosen the other route?

* * *

The bus was moving at a decent pace, Ariadne curled up in her seat. She looked for the landmarks. The little coffee shop they frequented was on the corner, and she could see it. She jumped up. This was her stop.

* * *

Arthur went into the men's room. He needed to gather his thoughts. Reaching to the back of his waist, he found the gun.

Suddenly, he felt himself grabbed and shoved back against the porcelain wall. Looking up, he realised it was the older man he'd seen talking to Rafe earlier.

"Heads up, pretty boy," the man spat, and before Arthur could move, he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his side. Doubling over, he choked, only to be greeted by a boot slamming into his abdomen.

"Hey!" A loud voice cut through. "Stop that!"

Through a blurred haze, Arthur saw Rafe walk over. His pulse quickened, and moving his hand down, he felt his palm become slick. _Blood_, he realised, with a dull shock.

"I'm sorry about that," Rafe's voice was gentle. "You're coming with me. I'll take care of that wound for you, trust me."

* * *

Ariadne grabbed the heavy outer door of the warehouse. She took the steps two at a time, hoping that Arthur would be in the room, talking, awake.

She wanted to talk to him. Find out what was going on. She pushed the door open, and gasped when she saw the two sleeping forms.

She moved forward. Arthur was clearly in a deep state of sedation. The other man she didn't recognise, but she had a prickling sensation in her stomach.

She approached the PASIV. Suddenly, there was only one thing she could think of doing. Pulling out an IV, she plugged it into her arm, and closed her eyes.


	46. Chapter 46

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Oh my God."

Cobb burst into the Warehouse, his jaw dropping as he observed the three dreamers. Arthur was stretched out, his head almost lolling onto his shoulder; Ariadne was curled up, her facial expression almost frowing.

The Extractor walked to the third. He looked down at him, a feeling of revulsion coming over him. Rafe's face was long, with imperious, high cheekbones. His dark hair fell in strands around his face, and his hands were resting peacefully in his lap. He looked as though he were almost smiling.

Cobb clenched his fists. He leaned over.

"What are you doing to them, you son-of-a-bitch?" He hissed. "If you hurt either of them during this extraction, I swear I'll kill you myself!"

He grabbed Rafe's shoulders, digging his fingers in.

"What do you know?" His voice was rising. "Tell them! Now!"

Eames walked over and placed his hands on Cobb's shoulders.

"Dom." He spoke gently. "This isn't going to help."

Cobb straightened up. "I know, but I fell..." he rubbed his forehead. "If I hadn't yelled at him like that, accused him of-"

"Stop it," Fran broke in. "Its not going to help."

"I agree." Eames looked at Cobb. "Arthur's been chomping at the bit to take this on himself since we started. He wanted to be inside man, remember? Arthur really wants to prove something with this case."

Cobb swallowed. "But Ari...?" Suddenly his anger exploded. "How the hell did she even get here? What the hell happened?"

Fran looked at him. "Check your voicemail."

"What?"

"Do you think she'd come back and not try and contact you?"

He pulled out his cellphone, and switched it on. His face paled as Ariadne's message floated out of the electronic ether.

"She came back earlier today – when we were at the Warehouse, and then chasing Arthur." He swallowed. "She must have gone to my place...but how did she?"

"Arthur must have rung your apartment," Eames forehead creased. "She overheard the message."

Cobb looked at Arthur, intense anger forming across his face. "You've really done it this time Arthur, I don't know whether to come after you or just hit you."

"I wouldn't do either."

Cobb turned to Fran. "What do you mean?"

"Arthur's been under for about fifteen minutes. That will be three hours. Ariadne for about five." She swallowed. "I doubt we'll find them."

Cobb looked at her, and Eames. "So what do we do?"

* * *

"Hey...you still alive in there?"

Arthur shifted, and blinked. He moved his hand to his side, and felt something bulky. _Bandaging_, he realised with a jolt. He turned, and realised that he was sitting on a chair, in a kitchen.

"We weren't too far away from my place," Rafe spoke as though he'd heard Arthur's thoughts. "So I thought I'd bring you back here...I hope it didn't seem too forward."

Arthur swallowed. "What happened?"

"Oh, you were stabbed in the men's room." Rafe's tone indicated he wasn't surprised. "Its a crazy kind of place, that bar. I suspect someone saw you as a threat, and decided they wanted to- well, your here now."

"What time is it?"

Rafe looked surprised, then checked his watch. "Its 5pm."

_Thats four hours. _Arthur swallowed. He'd been under for four hours, and it seemed as though everything was beginning to implode already. He needed to get a handle on the situation.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. It made him shudder, but he decided that if he were going to extract what they needed, in order to solve the case, he had to do it.

"Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you...see my chest when you bandaged me?"

Rafe turned. "I saw some of it."

"Do you...want to see some more?"

"And here I was thinking I was forward." Rafe raised his eyebrows. "Of course I want to see more of your chest...your whole body, in fact."

Arthur swallowed. "So...is there somewhere we could go?"

"Oh, yes." Rafe was smiling. "There is. But first...do you think you could explain why you're carrying this?"

Arthur looked up. And froze. Rafe was pointing his gun at his face.

* * *

Ariadne shivered. The rain was pounding the pavement, and her long hair fell in tendrils around her face.

The area she was in seemed unsavoury. She tried to think. She'd designed this dreamscape, therefore she would have an inkling of where Arthur could go. Where the mark could.

Looking across the road, she spotted a bar. Steeling her resolve, she hurried across the road.

* * *

"OK, I'll stay." Fran looked at Cobb and Eames. "But – do you guys know where you're going?"

"No." Eames said flatly. "Its all part of the fun."

"We can make an educated guess." Cobb's voice had some new resolve in it. "I've seen the dream that Ari designed. But we have to take a chance. Christ knows whats happening to them."

"Its the torture, isn't it?" Fran looked at Cobb. "Thats what you're worried about."

* * *

Arthur looked at Rafe. "I'm a private investigator."

"Oh, really?" Rafe's smile was mocking. "Sure you're not really a cop?"

"Sure." Arthur set his jaw. "I'm not a cop. Please. Put the gun down."

"Keep going."

"I'm a PI. I'm just out for a few drinks...and I run into you. Straight from the office."

Rafe's eyebrows went up. "So...you're not trying to target me."

"Trust me, I'm not."

Rafe swallowed. "OK. I'm a little hasty. Its just..." he looked at him. "There's something about you...I can't quite put my finger on it."

Arthur smiled. "I guess its the suit."

"Its a nice suit." Rafe raised his eyebrows. "I think it would look better on the floor."

Arthur almost gagged. "Of course. Whatever you say."

Ariadne had paid, and gone inside the club. Nervously, she noticed the clientele was predominantly male. She walked to the bar.

The female bartender observed her. "Yeah?"

She swallowed. "I'm looking for someone."

* * *

"Come this way." Rafe was tugging at Arthur's wrist. The Point Man felt revulsion ripple through him. He got up, wincing slightly at the bandage.

"Oh, you're hurt still." Rafe's voice was almost contrite.

"I guess so."

"Need a lie down?" Arthur suddenly realised that they were standing near a door, in the hallway. Rafe had his hand on the doorknob.

"You know what one of the advantages of living in a ground floor apartment is?"

Arthur looked at him. "A garden?"

"No." Rafe grinned. "This."

He opened the door. Suddenly Arthur realised it revealed a short flight of stairs down to a basement. His skin prickled. Rafe was grinning at him. A sadistic grin.

"Enjoy your stay," he hissed, and before Arthur could move, he shoved the Point Man into the darkness.


	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

He blinked.

He could vaguely make out some shapes in the gloom – Rafe's subconscious had created a proper basement. The coldness of the stone floor was penetrating his clothing, and caused him to shiver.

A stabbing bolt of pain was travelling through his right leg. He tried to keep from calling out, and moved his hands to it. Feeling the leg, he gasped. It felt broken. His leg had taken all his weight when he fell.

He felt tears beginning to prick his eyes. "Get it together," he muttered tightly. It was a dream. But, he realised with growing horror, he was trapped. In Rafe's subconscious. For another thirty hours.

* * *

"What do you mean, torture?" Cobb looked at Fran. "Explain!"

She swallowed. "In his statement, Jensen claimed that he and his accomplice had tortured their victim. Inflicted pain on them. Before they killed them."

"If Arthur or Ariadne die in this dream, they'll wake up." Cobb looked at the two sleeping figures. "But causing pain – pain will happen in the mind. They'll remember. They'll be damaged."

He breathed. His hands were shaking.

"Its all my fault." He whispered. "All my fault. I should have listened to Arthur from the beginning. I was so wrapped up in doing the family a favour – and I've sent my Point Man, and my Architect, to what could be their-" his voice cracked.

"You didn't send Arthur into Rafe's mind." Eames spoke quietly.

"I might as well have done." Cobb turned to the Forger. "I threatened to throw him off the team. Told him he was no good. Arthur needed to prove something – and now I've –I've-"

"Dom." Eames tried to keep his voice calm. "It is not your fault. You know how stubborn Arthur can be, how string willed...and as for Ari – didn't she insist on going into limbo with you on the Fischer job? You're not responsible – they've made their own choices!"

"Look," Fran broke in. "This is wasting time. You need to make a decision. Are you going in, or not? Because whichever one of you does, I need to go as well."

Cobb blinked. "Eames. You and Fran. I'll stay here. If either of them wakes up-"

"They'll be alive." Eames reassured him. "Right. How long have we got?"

Fran looked at her watch. "Ninety minutes in this time."

Eames nodded. "Right. Lets go."

* * *

Ariadne tried to smile at the bartender.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for someone." Her voice sounded stronger than she intended. "He's tall, thin, dark haired."

"Very descriptive," the woman shrugged. "Now, do you want to buy a drink or not?"

Crushed, Ariadne tried to walk away from the bar. She felt defeated. The projections were glaring at her, and she was starting to feel afraid. In Fischer's mind, Arthur had been with her in the second level – she'd felt safe. Now she felt exposed, and vulnerable.

"Hey...you ok, sweetheart?"

She looked up. A large blonde man was approaching her, smiling sympathetically. She felt her nerves strain.

"Yes. I'm looking for someone."

He looked interested. "Who?"

"Well, he's tall, thin, dark haired, looks nice in a suit," she said, blushing slightly.

The man's face creased slightly. "I think I know who you mean. He was in here earlier."

Ariadne's heart raced. "Can you tell me where he's gone?"

The man looked uncomfortable. "Sweetheart, you don't want to know. Trust me."

* * *

Eames blinked as he and Fran found themselves on the rain slicked pavement. She looked at the dreary cityscapes.

"Where do we start?"

Eames looked at the surroundings. "I have no idea," he confessed. "All we can do is just start walking. But I have a suspicion, knowing the type of man that Rafe is, he'd be in a bar."

Fran shook her head. "This is a nightmare. We don't know where they are, or what he's doing to them-" she paused.

Suddenly, Eames gasped.

"What is it?"

"Its Ariadne. And a blonde man. Getting in a cab. We have to move. Now!"

* * *

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open. "Hey, you down here?"

The voice was taunting, mocking.

Arthur swallowed. "Where else would I be?"

"Oh, I don't know..." the voice echoed along with the footsteps. "For all I know, you could have broken your neck."

"I didn't." Arthur's teeth were gritted.

"Obviously." Rafe came further into the gloom. Arthur could make out his outline. He knelt down. "Did you...break anything?"

"My leg."

"Ooooh...poor baby." The tone was mocking. "You broke your leg. Still, guess you can't run away now."

"Why have you done this?" Arthur knew he needed to get the man talking. In the dream, his defences were lowered.

"Its simple." Rafe sounded surprised. "Down here, no-one knows. I can do anything I like to you. And no-one will ever know."

"What about when you let me go?"

"What makes you think I will?"

"I'm warning you-" Arthur began, then realised. No gun.

"You're warning me?" Rafe started to laugh. "You're completely helpless! You're lying here, you think your leg's broken – no, I can do what I like. And I intend to. Before I kill you."

Arthur looked more closely. If Rafe was standing near him, he could reach out and-

"Lie down." The tone was harsh.

"What?"

"You heard. Lie down."

Arthur decided to comply. The closer Rafe came to him, the more chance he had. Suddenly, he saw a small flame being thrown up. He swallowed.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell me," Rafe's voice sounded almost dreamy. "Have you ever fantasised...about being in pain?"

* * *

Eames hailed a cab, As it pulled up, he went to the driver's side, and pulled out his gun. "Get out."

The driver complied, Eames got in the driver's seat, Fran the passenger.

"Right. Scout for me, darling." Eames began to pull away from the curb. "Can you see them?"

Fran looked. "They're just pulling round that corner."

"Excellent. Hold on!"

* * *

Ariadne turned to Ryan. He was smiling.

"So, you know where Arthur is?"

"Of course. Hang on. Would you pull over, please?"

* * *

Rafe leaned over Arthur, the candle lit and in his hand.

Arthur looked at him. The flickering light was casting a ghoulish glow to Rafe's face.

"So..." Rafe breathed. "Just relax. This won't hurt, I promise."


	48. Chapter 48

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb looked at Rafe. His eyes narrowed.

"Whats going in in there?" He whispered. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

He got up. Moving over to the motionless, dreaming Cobb, he carefully pulled his gun out from his belt holster.

"If I kill you, will they wake up?"

* * *

Fran and Eames watched with mounting alarm. The car had disappeared, but by leaning forward, they thought they could catch a glimpse of a young woman walking out into the small park that clipped the edge of the city.

The Psychiatriest swallowed. "Eames, if we're going to do anything-"

The Forger responded by unlocking the door and getting out. "Come on!"

Rafe exhaled a plume of smoke. The ash from the lit cigarette dropped on the stone floor; he absentmindedly stamped on it with his foot.

"My ears are...ringing," he complained, before taking in another lungful. He idly exhaled it towards the ceiling.

He turned and looked at Arthur.

"You know, you scream very loudly." His tone became taunting. "And I don't know if anyone has ever told you, but you scream like a girl."

Ariadne willed herself to stay calm. The older blonde man was pushing her forward with the use of a gun. She swallowed and kept walking.

"What do you want me to-"

"Shut up!" The man erupted. His voice was edged with panic. "Just do as you're told."

She nodded. The gun barrel grazed her back again.

Fran followed Eames. She was surprised at how light footed the bigger man was. Eames gestured to Fran as they crouched behind another parked car.

"Can you see her?" Fran whispered.

Eames squinted. "I can see what looks like a bloke. Don't recognise him. Is probably with her."

Fran started to stand up. "OK. We need to go and interrupt whatever's happening. He is probably the link that will lead us to Arthur."

"Fran." Eames' tone was matter-of-fact. "Its entirely likely that Arthur's dead."

"If he is, he's woken up. But..." Fran paused, the last word hanging in the air like a poisoned vine.

"But?" Eames' voice was laced with concern.

"But if he's alive, in this layer, he might be becoming increasingly damaged."

* * *

Arthur blinked back tears. He'd sworn he wouldn't cry – the fact he'd screamed had been enough.

He was used to pain in dreams. He'd never entirely forgiven Cobb for how his late wife, Mal, had shot him in the leg in their first encounter with Saito. He'd certainly never really forgiven him for shooting him at point blank range in the same dream. Even though he knew Cobb's intentions had been good, the sheer shock he'd felt had lingered.

But this was different. The sheer gloating malice as the hot wax had begun to dribble down had been new. Rafe had stood there, motionless, as the first drops had fallen on Arthur's torso. He'd screamed as soon as it had hit his skin, burning and scarring his flesh.

Rafe had watched. After two blobs had fallen, he took the candle, and snuffed it. Pulling a packet of cigarettes out, he lit one, and watched Arthur.

"Do you mind?"

Arthur shook his head. He felt he couldn't deny the psychopath anything.

"Good. Because I don't." He chuckled.

"Is this-"

"Is this what, sweetheart?"

"Is this what you did to Chandra Caddick?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Who?"

"Chandra...Caddick." Arthur gasped out. "You must do. You raped her. You killed her. And why did you do it? Because you wanted her boyfriend and she was in the way."

"I have no idea who you're talking about," Rafe started to laugh. "I think you're confused, really. So, how about I bring you back to reality?"

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, and leaned over Arthur.

"X marks the spot!"

* * *

Ariadne turned and faced Ryan. She noticed his hands were trembling.

"What do you want?" Her voice sounded stronger than she'd dared hope. She took a deep breath. "I'm just trying to find a friend."

Ryan shivered. "You won't want to find him. Trust me."

"Why's that?" Ariadne felt out of her depth, but knew she had to keep trying.

"Because...because..." Ryan choked. "Because he's with that creep. And look what he did to me!"

The projection ripped his shirt open. The Architect gasped.

* * *

Cobb bit his fingernail.

"Come on," he muttered, looking at her watch. "You've got thirty minutes."

Ariadne blinked. Ryan's torso was a twisted mass of scars. She shuddered.

"This is what he does," Ryan informed her. "This is how he likes to get his way."

"ARI!""

She blinked. Suddenly, she saw Eames.

* * *

Arthur felt a tear roll down his cheek. Rafe looked almost concerned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey...here, let me wipe it off." Kneeling down, he reached out and gently brushed Arthur's cheek. A shudder of revulsion went through the Point Man.

"You know, this can be a real kink of some women," Rafe spoke. "Some really like being burned. Some like being whipped. Real urge to be dominated. I bet you'd love to do that."

"No," Arthur choked out. "I'm not like you."

"Fuck you." Rafe's tone was lazy, mocking. "Yes, you are. You have desires, you have urges. Haven't you ever looked at a woman, and though, 'I want to make you scream? I want to make you beg?'"

Arthur swallowed.

"Women are so fucking evil. They don't realise that they tease us, and it hurts us. But men are like that too. Being bisexual gives me the best – and worst – of both worlds."

"You hate women." Arthur felt a surge of anger that blotted out the pain. "You hate them."

Rafe chuckled. "Don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"Don't fucking lie to me, sweetie. I'm sure you're still smarting about some bitch who wouldn't suck you off in high school. I bet you're still sour about some girl who dumped you in college. I'm sure there's someone you like right now, who if she rejected you, you'd never forgive her. Isn't there?"

Arthur sucked in his breath. Listening to Rafe was like hearing his ugliest, darkest thoughts given a voice. He shuddered.

"For me," Rafe continued, "it all started with my now ex-wife."

"You were married?"

"Oh, yes. I was married."

* * *

Eames gave Ryan a hard shove, sending the projection quickly caught up with the Forger, and pulled out her gun, aiming it at Ryan.

"OK." Her voice was cold. "You've got two choices. You either give us the information we want, or I kill you. Its very, very simple."

Ryan coughed. "I'm not going anywhere near him. I was trying to help her!"

"No, you weren't." Eames spoke. "You were intending on taking her to him. This was just to give her a warning."

"Well," Ryan's tone was faltering. "I knew she was looking for the guy in the bar, who went with Rafe. He likes couples."

"Where is he?"Fran's tone was hard.

"He'll be..." Ryan looked nervous. "He'll be at his apartment. Thats where he takes them."

Fran waved the gun. "Take us there. Now!"

* * *

"Your ex-wife..." Arthur could feel himself losing consciousness, but he knew that to keep awake, he had to keep talking. "What was she like?"

Rafe lit another cigarette. "She was a bitch. Thats all you need to know."

Suddenly, he moved over and kneeled down next to Arthur. "You're far lovelier," he purred, running his hand down the Point Man's side. "You know that?"

Arthur lay motionless, as Rafe ran his hand down the side of his torso. "Oh, yes..." he hissed.

Gritting his teeth, the Point Man lashed out with his fist. As it collided with Rafe's mouth, he exhaled. The other man fell away, cursing.

Arthur put both hands out in front of himself, and tried to drag himself forward. His chest still felt as though it was burning, and his leg was a dull throb. But he could still try and help himself.

Suddenly, everything went dark.

"Nice try," a voice sneered, and suddenly Arthur choked. All his breath was being brutally squeezed out of his chest.

* * *

Ryan drove. Fran sat in the passenger seat, her gun pointing straight at his shoulder.

"He'll kill me," Ryan jabbered, the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Not if we kill him first," Eames was in the back, his arm around a shaking Ariadne.

"You don't know how this guy works," Ryan said, his tone slightly desperate. "He's a-"

"Psychotic killer, we know" Fran spoke smoothly. "He knows how to hurt."

"He likes to-" Ryan broke off. "I managed to get away. Not everyone does."

* * *

Arthur felt himself drowning. His breath was increasingly shallow, and ragged.

"Thats it," Rafe murmured. "Keep at it. You're going to be such a good looking corpse!"

Arthur tried to pull at the cord that was asphyxiating him, but his hands were starting to feel numb.

"Breathe," Rafe murmured. "Thats it. You're going to be going into shock, in about-"

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard.

Rafe's grip on the cord slackened.

"What the fuck?"

* * *

"Right." Eames stood in the hallway of Rafe's apartment, Fran and Ariadne on either side of him. "Where do you think he is?"

Ryan swallowed. "Look, man, I only ever met him a few times..."

"Tell me." Eames' eyes were hard.

"The basement."

"Right. Go."

Ryan nodded, and ran.

Fran took a deep breath. "Ariadne, if you want to-"

"No," the Architect cut in. "I came to find Arthur."

The psychiatrist smiled. "Thats the spirit. But remember – this is only a dream."

Eames gestured with his hand. "That door – I suspect it leads downwards."

Nodding, Fran put her hand on it, and turned it.

Eames turned to the Architect. "Ari. Please wait outside. God knows whats going on down there."

Looking frightened, the Architect nodded.

* * *

"I can't go and see whats going on up there," Rafe mumbled. "I need to get this finished. I can't let you go."

He grabbed the cord again, and twisted it, hard. Arthur let out a rattling gasp, and choked again.

The door at the top crashed open. "ARTHUR!"

Rafe froze. "What-?"

Eames made his way down the stairs, blinking in the dim light. "Arthur. Are you down here? Rafe Lloyd – are you down here?"

"Right on both counts." Rafe's tone was angry. "Who are you?"

"People you don't want to meet," Eames growled, making his way into the centre of the basement. His eyes widened – in the dim lamp light, he could see Rafe, holding a twisted rope cord around what looked like a black sack. Suddenly, Eames realised, and began to charge forward.

"You sick, twisted-!" Going up to the psychopath, he shoved him, causing him to lose his grip. Arthur fell forward, wheezing. Rafe slammed back into the wall, only to run forward and find himself punched by Eames. He sprawled.

"Eames!" Fran came down the stairs, holding the gun. "Stop!"

Eames paused. "Fran. Take Arthur. We've got five minutes before the kick!"

Fran nodded. She grabbed at the Point Man, who was crawling on the floor, coughing. "Arthur. Its Fran." Her tone was gentle. "Come on." She pulled the cloth bag off his head, and putting one arm around his slender waist, helped him to his feet.

As they made their way up the stairs, Eames walked forward. Rafe was still trying to get up. He decided to launch a kick, right in the other man's abdomen. He choked.

"Killing you," Eames muttered, "will just wake you up." Pulling a gun out from the back of his belt, he shot Rafe straight in the chest.

Cobb started. Rafe choked, and his eyes fluttered.

"What the-" The Extractor looked as the other man began to emerge from the dream. He began to sit up, and his eyes were starting to focus.

"Where-" Rafe choked out, "where the hell am I?" He looked at Cobb. "Who the hell are you?"

Cobb swallowed. "I could ask you the same thing – but you're Rafe Lloyd, aren't you?"

"Yes." Rafe savagely ripped the IV out of his arm. "I am." Turning, he shoved at Cobb, so hard the other man stumbled and fell backwards. Rafe turned, and fled. Cobb, slumped against the wall, watched him go, gasping in shock.

"Right," Fran got Arthur outside. "We're nearly at the-" She gasped.

The Point Man's torso was bearing two long burns – the result of the melted wax. She noticed there was Also a cigarette burn. She looked in Arthur's eyes, and noticed they were wide with fear.

"Arthur," she spoke gently, "remember-"

"I don't want to remember," he whispered. "Please Fran, kill me. Wake me up!"

Cobb swallowed his shock, and looked at his watch. "The kick!"

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. Ariadne hurried forward, "Arthur!" Suddenly, she fell.

Her eyes flew open. Cobb was beside her. "Hey its ok, the others-" he turned. Eames' eyes were fluttering, and so were Fran's. Cobb decided to focus on the Architect.

"Hey, its ok," the Extractor said, gently. "I'm here."

She exhaled. "Oh, my-" She gasped. "Arthur!"

Cobb turned to look at the Point Man. He was waking up, but he was writhing, twisting as though he were in pain.

"Arthur, take it easy!" Cobb hurried to his side. "Its ok!"

Arthur's eyes were open, and he grabbed at Cobb's arm. "He tried to – he tried to-"

"Its all right," Cobb spoke soothingly. "Arthur, its ok!"

"Why did I go in?" Arthur spoke, and suddenly, to Cobb's shock, he began to cry.

"Because you wanted to-" Cobb broke off. Arthur continued to sob. Ariadne hurried to him. "Arthur-"

"Get away from me!" The Point Man roared, and stood up with force that stunned the others. The Architect gasped.

"Arthur, I'm trying to-"

"Get away from me, Ariadne!" His tone was desperate. "Don't you understand? You're not safe with me!"


	49. Chapter 49

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Oh God, no! Oh, God, please NO!"

"Arthur!"

"Please, no, stop!"

"Arthur!"

"No, I can't, I won't, please! PLEASE!"

"ARTHUR!"

Shaken awake, the Point Man opened his eyes, and with difficulty focused them on Cobb's face. The Extractor's light blue eyes stared into Arthur's terrified brown ones.

"He- he-"

"Shhh, its ok," Cobb whispered, pulling Arthur close. The younger man leaned his head on Cobb's shoulder, and took a shuddering breath.

"He's always there. Always. Everytime I close my eyes-"

"Its only been 12 hours since you were under."

"I'm scared, Dom." Arthur's voice was cracked. "I feel scared. Scared of whats in my mind."

"I know you are." Cobb's embrace was fraternal. "I know you are." He let Arthur rest his head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Arthur's voice was low.

Cobb didn't respond. He just pulled the man he regarded as the closest thing to a brother tighter.

* * *

Eames rolled over, and his arm hit the empty side of the bed. Groaning slightly, he pushed himself up on his elbows. Fran suddenly entered the room, carrying two cups.

"Hey," she said, sitting on the bed and kissing his forehead. "Sleep ok?"

He grimaced slightly. "Not bad. Thanks." He took one of the cups. "How's Ariadne?"

"Still asleep. She hardly stirred when I went through to the kitchen."

Eames took a sip of coffee. "Thanks for letting us stay here the night."

She pulled herself up on the bed. "I felt it was the least I could do."

They both fell silent, remembering the scenes in the warehouse. Arthur had been distraught, begging Ariadne to please get away from him. Fran and Eames had both ushered Ariadne out. After sitting up until 1am, an exhausted Ariadne had fallen asleep in the lounge. Eames and Fran had both wondered if Cobb would call. Fran took a swallow of coffee. It had taken Cobb, then added assistance from Eames, to get Arthur downstairs and into the car.

"So, what now?"

Eames shrugged. "Who knows? Its over. Rafe's gone – and we have no evidence for an arrest. Arthur's a mess. Cobb's going out of his mind. "

Fran sipped her coffee. "There is one other lead."

"What?"

"The guy who took Ariadne. A projection...or manifestation?"

Eames looked at Fran with growing admiration. "I'm beginning to wish we'd had you on board for Fischer. It might have gone a bit more smoothly." He chuckled. "Although that was piss easy compared to this dog's mess."

Fran looked at him. "Fischer?"

"Yeah. Arthur overlooked something – got a bit ugly. Still, probably at the root of this."

Fran put her cup down, and grabbed a towel.

"Shower time?" Eames grinned.

"Yes." She couldn't help smiling. "And as much I'd love you to scrub my back, I think I need to talk to Cobb."

He mock scowled. "Let me down gently, why don't you!"

Fran flicked at him with her towel. He grabbed the end, and pulled her closer. She succumbed, and found herself practically on top of him.

"Would you do me a favour?" Eames murmured as he kissed her neck.

"Name it."

"Tell Cobb that if we continue with this case, under no circumstances is Ariadne to go back in."

Fran swallowed. "Thats up to her, Eames."

"Fran. Are you telling me that Ariadne should be exposed to that maniac again? You saw what he did to Arthur."

She shuddered, remembering the streaks of melted wax down the Point Man's torso. She also remembered the gasp of horror that had escaped Eames' lips.

"But it was her choice to go under."

"Yes." Eames reached for his coffee mug. "Because...oh bollocks. Why do you think she went in? You're the shrink."

She looked at him. "Because she wanted to help Arthur. This case has awoken something in him – something that he needs to address. Remember when he took himself under, and dealt only with a projection?"

Eames nodded. "How could I forget?"

"Arthur can't seem to handle having sexual feelings. He seems to associate them with violence." She bit her lip. "Maybe I'm misjudging the guy."

Eames looked at her. "You are, perhaps. But then, I don't know anything about Arthur's past."

She looked at him. "Well, maybe he doesn't want you to. I know I performed an extraction on him – but this is so deep that I don't think another one will work."

"So what then?"

She grabbed her towel. "Maybe we should let him do his job."

* * *

Cobb sighed, and looked at the clock. 7am. A night of broken sleep had left him feeling drained. Getting up, he pulled on his bathrobe and headed for the kitchen.

Arthur's room was silent. Taking a quick detour, he peeked in through the door. After a restless, disturbed night, in which he'd woken up and cried out twice, the Point Man appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Cobb pulled the door to. Upon entering the kitchen, the buzzer for the apartment block's main door shrilled. Cobb sighed, and hurried to it, not wanting Arthur to be disturbed.

"Hello?"

"Dom? Fran. May I come up?"

"Of course."

Cobb pressed the entry button. The psychiatrist was the only person he wanted to see Arthur. He'd told Ariadne and Eames to take a few days out, let them gather their thoughts, and consider the next course of action.

When he opened the door, he noticed that she was not wearing a suit, but more casually dressed in jeans and a long sleeved top. "Hey."

"Morning," she responded. "I cancelled my clinic hours. I thought you might need some...assistance."

Cobb smiled tiredly. "Very perceptive."

He stood aside to let her walk in. "Coffee?"

"Sounds good. Need a hand?"

"Only in locating. I have no idea where Arthur keeps things in here." Cobb opened a cupboard, and shuffled a few items around. "Oh, here it is."

Fran was seated at the breakfast nook. "Is Arthur-?"

"Sleeping." Cobb responded. "At last."

"Bad night?"

"Yes." He responded, tersely. Arthur had gone to bed at about 11pm, but Cobb had heard the restless man tossing and turning. At around 2am, he'd heard sobbing. After helping Arthur calm down, he'd fallen into a lightl sleep – until 4am, when the sobbing had begun again.

Fran winced. "I'm sorry, Dom."

"Not your fault." He felt he couldn't face her. "You told me it could be dangerous – I refused to listen. Arthur was uneasy from the start, and I made him feel bad enough that he had to play the hero. Now-" he swallowed.

"Arthur's an adult, Dom. He chose to take the risks he did."

Cobb rubbed his face, and tried to concentrate on pouring coffee beans into Arthur's pristine grinder. He then ground the beans, then poured them into the espresso maker. He turned on the faucet, and filled a jug with water. After he'd finished, he turned to Fran. "Arthur and I haven't always had the easiest working relationship. He's the best Point Man I've ever worked with, but sometimes, I feel he feels...stifled."

"That he wants to be the hero?"

"Crass way of putting it, but yes." Cobb focused on making the coffee.

"But what has he got to gain?"

"Stepping out of the shadow? Money? I have no idea." Cobb let the hot black Liquid drip into a tiny cup. "This case...I've never seen him like this."

Fran gratefully accepted the small cup and saucer he passed her. " You need to continue with this case."

"Why?" Cobb asked, heavily. "I doubt we'll find Rafe. And you can see what its doing to Arthur."

* * *

Eames made his way into the kitchen of Fran's apartment, walking carefully past Ariadne. She sighed in her sleep.

He looked at her. She was too young to do this type of job, he thought, and also far too innocent.

Eames turned away from her and began to rifle through the cupboards. She reminded him of his sister, who was two years his junior. His hand tightened on the loaf of bread he'd grabbed. A maniac like Lloyd should not be allowed near anyone. Especially women.

He rubbed his face. Uncomfortable memories were starting to bubble up. He remembered an incident when he was 17, and his sister 15. She'd gone out with a lad from her school. He remembered him turning up to their house, reeking of cheap aftershave and even cheaper promises. Yes, he would have her home before eleven...and no, Mr Eames, Sir, he certainly wouldn't try anything on.

Except she'd come home, her dress slightly torn and her mascara running. She thought no-one had seen her. But he had. He'd heard her sobbing in her room, and he felt himself bristle with anger.

He'd found him easily the next day. There he was, bragging in the school playground about Eames' sister, oh yeah, she was a right goer, let him put his hand right up her – until Eames' fist had collided with his mouth, causing the younger boy's nose to bleed. He'd told him that if he ever came near his sister again, he'd break his neck.

If he ever got his hands on Lloyd – in real life- he'd dish out the justice that was needed.

"Eames?" He turned. Ariadne was standing in the doorway, her hair rumpled and yawning.

"Oh, morning, Princess." He smiled. "One slice or two?"

* * *

Cobb was waiting for Fran to finish speaking. Her eyes never left his face.

"Its not just about Rafe. There could be someone else involved, someone who could be a more solid lead into this. One of the projections could be real." She looked at him. "It might also be a way of helping Arthur." She picked up her coffee cup. "But Eames is adamant that he doesn't want Ariadne to have further involvement."

The Extractor raised his eyebrows. "Yes?" He sat down at the breakfast nook, facing her. "Please explain." His eyes bored into hers. "What exactly have you and Eames been deciding on?"

Fran opened her mouth to speak, when a moan was heard from the bedroom.

"Arthur," Cobb muttered. He hurried to the master bedroom, Fran behind him.


	50. Chapter 50

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Ariadne looked out the window of Cobb's apartment, marshalling her thoughts. The events of the previous day and night had shaken her.

She'd never seen anyone in the position Arthur had been in. He'd looked vulnerable, helpless, his skin covered with what looked like blood, until she'd come further forward and realised it was wax. His face had been contorted with pain, and he'd looked desperate. Frightened.

She'd never seen Arthur look frightened before. During the Fischer job, he'd looked puzzled, angry, and worried, but never frightened. He'd always been calm, composed. Trustworthy.

She curled up in the chair, hugging her knees tightly. She badly wanted to go to Arthur, to touch him, reassure him that he'd been ok, but he'd looked at her as though she were a stranger. He'd told her to leave him, that she wasn't safe with him.

Ariadne felt sick to her stomach. She'd always felt safe with Arthur. In moments where she'd fantasied about the two of them, he'd always been gentlemanly, never forcing her to do what she didn't want to do. But the Arthur she'd seen yesterday had seemed crazed, lust driven.

She brushed away a tear. She'd never felt more alone in her life.

* * *

"So what happened?"

"He took me to his apartment."

"What do you remember about it?"

"It was…furnished. Quite expensive looking. He told me to sit down. Then…"

"Then what?"

"He threatened me, with a gun."

"And what did you do?"

"I wanted to get away."

"But he wouldn't let you."

"He pushed me. Into the basement. I fell…and I broke my leg."

"How did you feel, Arthur?"

"I felt trapped. Helpless."

"But you're not, Arthur. You know it was just a dream."

"But it was real whilst I was there."

Cobb swallowed, and looked at the Point Man. "But – Art – we've been in dangerous situations before, and they've never affected you like this." He bit his lip. He'd urged Fran to leave him to talk to Arthur, figuring the last thing the Point Man would want would be to be made like a patient.

"He poured hot wax on my chest." Arthur looked at Cobb, unflinching. "He put a bag over my head, and tried to strangle me. I've been shot, killed by avalanches…but nothing like this. He's a psychopath. He enjoyed hurting me."

Cobb rubbed his face. "Arthur. I'm sorry this has happened to you, but I-"

"Tried to warn me?" Arthur's voice was toneless. "Tried to tell me it would all go wrong? Just say 'I told you so', and get it over with."

"I'm not going to." Cobb's voice was gentle. "We all make mistakes. You did. I did. That's it."

Arthur stood up. "Thanks."

"But Arthur – " Cobb walked up to him, and took him by the shoulders. "If you ever, ever do anything as stupid as that again, I might just-" he stopped, and pulled him into a hug. "You're all I've got left, aside from Miles and the kids," he said. "Just look out for yourself more, OK?"

Arthur took a shaky breath. "Trust me, I will." He looked at the floor, then met Cobb's eyes. "Thank you."

Cobb nodded.

"So what do we do now?"

"We talk to Fran, Eames, and Ariadne."

"I need to talk to Ariadne." Arthur bit his lip. "Its just – when I'm around her, I don't trust myself at the moment."

"No, Arthur." Cobb's voice was firm. "Thanks to Rafe, you don't trust yourself. You're not him, OK?"

"I know." Arthur looked at Cobb. "Its just – I like her, and you know me, the only thing I ever sleep with is my laptop."

"Art." Cobb's face reddened. "That was a shitty thing I said to you, OK?"

"Yeah." Arthur shrugged. A silence fell between the two men. Cobb eventually broke it.

" I think we are going to have to just end this case. Its too dangerous. Lloyd will never tell us anything."

"He did." Arthur said. Now the initial shock and fear was fading, memories were tugging at his mind. "He told me quite a few things."

Cobb raised his eyebrows. "Such as?"

"That he didn't know Chandra Caddick." Arthur's face was intense. "Which is complete bull – because when I visited him at his office, he said he did."

"OK, he's a liar." Cobb nodded. "I'm sure Fran would say that fits the profile of a psychopath. What else?"

"That he is bisexual."

"Right…"

"And he was married."

"What?"

"Yep – he has an ex-wife." Arthur looked at Dom. "So what do we conclude? That he started killing after she left? That he is the killer? Or maybe its just a fantasy?"

Cobb shook his head. "This is getting way too complex."

"No, its simple." Arthur sat down on the bed, and looked at the Extractor. "Jensen is inside for a crime that he was party to, but didn't commit. We have a psychiatrist who was more than happy to misdiagnose. A psychiatrist who is now sleeping with our Forger. A psychiatrist who was more than happy to come on both extractions."

Cobb looked at him, his jaw dropping. "Arthur, you're not suggesting-"

"Yes, I am." The Point Man's tone was brusque. "Have you considered that Fran's interest in this case could be personal?"

The Extractor swallowed. "I agree, she's been very constructive on this case. But, I mean, if you're ex is a psychopath, you're going to want him put away, aren't you?

"Or not."

"Arthur." Cobb looked at him. "Are you suggesting that Fran is being obstructive on this case?"

"No." Arthur said evenly. "But I am saying that she's not telling us the whole story. We know nothing about her. But we do know she wrongly diagnosed Jensen. She knew who the killer was. She knew it. And the reason she misdiagnosed, was because she thought it would draw him out. Make him kill again."

"Be careful with what you're saying-"

Arthur cut him off. "I think we need to ask Fran some questions."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Arthur looked at him. "Because, as you keep on reminding us, Chandra Caddick is dead. Her boyfriend is also dead. And there is a killer out there – whose possible ex-wife is working with us. If she wants to see him caught, she needs to start being honest. And she needs to start being honest now."

Cobb swallowed. "What you're really saying is-"

"We need to do the extraction. And my guess is, the best person to do it on, is Fran."


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb took a deep breath. He looked at the Point Man.

"You do realise that Fran is on the other side of that door."

Arthur nodded. "Oh, I know." He looked at the Extractor. "Time we all started to be honest with each other, isn't it?"

Cobb swallowed. "Arthur, is it possible you could be mistaken?"

"She's lying to us, Cobb."

"Maybe so, but-" Cobb sighed. "OK, lets go outside."

Arthur nodded, opening the door. Fran was sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee. She stood up when both men entered.

"Arthur!" Her tone was warm. "How are you feeling?"

Arthur's lips curled. "You're very good, Fran. Very good. I guess its part of your training."

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You heard." He turned his back to her. Cobb's lips tightened.

"I did." She stood up, and walked towards the Point Man. "Will you explain to me why you're behaving like this?"

"I will," Arthur stood toe to toe with her, looking down. Normally he didn't try and intimidate women, but he felt a pulsing wave of anger. "Why don't you tell me this – what is your connection to Rafe Lloyd?"

"My connection?" She looked at Arthur. "I'm afraid you're being a little too subtle for me, Arthur. Would you go into some more detail, please?"

"OK," Arthur looked at her. "Rafe told me, in the dream, that he'd been married. He has an ex-wife. Here's my question – is it you?"

* * *

"Eames?" Ariadne wandered into the living room. "You still here?"

"Yep." Eames was drinking coffee, and sitting in the kitchen. "You ok, princess?"

She sat down at the table. "I guess so." She looked at the tabletop. "Do you reckon Arthur's going to be ok?"

"He's with Dom and Fran," Eames said, gently. "He'll be fine."

"Do you-" Ariadne paused, not sure of how to phrase the question.

"Do I what?" Eames picked up his mug and took another swallow.

"Like Fran?"

Eames put the mug down, and grinned. "Immensely."

* * *

"Are you trying to be funny?" Fran looked at Arthur. "Or did you take a really hard blow to the head?"

Arthur's eyes never left her face. "Just answer the question, please. Are you Rafe's ex-wife?"

"Does it matter what I say?" She looked at him. "You'll disbelieve me."

"I might do, but I respect people who tell me the truth." He folded his arms. "So try."

Fran narrowed her eyes. "Rafe Lloyd is not my ex-husband. You can comb my records for proof – I've never been married."

Arthur felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "Oh…Jesus…"

Cobb was shaking his head. "Well done Arthur."

"Fran, I-" Arthur swallowed. The psychiatrist's face was inscrutable. Cobb looked at her. "Fran, I'm-"

"Don't." She looked at them both. "Rafe Lloyd is not my ex-husband."

Arthur felt uncomfortable. "But-"

She looked at him. "He's my ex-brother-in-law."

* * *

"Listen, Ari, I'm going to head out for a while, OK?" Eames was already pulling on his jacket in the hallway. The Architect looked slightly surprised.

"Are you going to be back soon?" She asked.

"Oh, hopefully. Why don't you give Arthur a ring?" He said, gently. "I think you two need to talk."

Ariadne nodded. "I think I will."

* * *

"Your ex-brother in law?" Cobb said, disbelievingly. The three were sitting in the kitchen. Fran nodded.

"Yep. My ex-brother in law. He was married to my sister for six months. The marriage was annulled."

"How did they meet?" Cobb asked.

"College." Fran looked at both men. "They were both scientists. He flirted with her, she reciprocated, then they got married."

"Whilst still in college?" Arthur's eyebrows drew together.

"Yes." She nodded. "And without my parents' permission. When they found out-" she shivered.

"Go on." Cobb's voice was gentle. "What did they do?"

"Well, they gave her a choice. Either the marriage was annulled, or she was disowned. She agreed."

"And what did Rafe do?"

Fran shrugged. "He was given a document to sign. It told him that if he came near my sister again, or contested the agreement, he'd be in serious trouble with the university. My sister had found out that Rafe was pagiarising his research. He was using a TA to write his papers. If the university had found out, he would be thrown out. End of his chemistry career."

"What happened then?"

"He transferred. Disappeared. Never heard from him again. On a personal level, at least."

"So how did you know he was involved with Jensen and the Caddick case?" Cobb's interest was piqued.

"Because of what happened to a couple my sister knew." Fran picked up her coffee mug. "Both classmates of theirs. Rafe was known for flirting with men- my sister decided it wasn't worth worrying about. Until, he went out drinking with them one evening – and they never returned home."

Arthur's eyebrows went up. Cobb gripped the table.

"What did the Police do?"

"Nothing. They interviewed him. He told them that they'd been driving back from a bar, and been flagged down by a man. Before anyone could move, the man had pulled a gun on them. Rafe claimed he'd managed to escape, and try and get help. By the time the police arrived, the damage had been done."

"Did they find the bodies?"

"No. But they never found the alleged perpetrator, either. The case was too clean, too clueless. No crimes had been reported in the area that night- so why would anyone flee? And where was the damn car?"

"So you think he murdered them – and dumped the bodies?"

"Yep." Fran nodded. "And when the Caddick case hit the headlines…I had a feeling he was involved."

"Why has he left your family alone?" Arthur spoke.

"Because he's not stupid." Fran's voice was hard. "You may have gathered, Arthur, that Rafe is a classic sociopath. He doesn't feel empathy. He doesn't feel anything. He doesn't care. About anyone. But killing my sister? Me? My parents? Little too obvious. He covers his tracks. He picks victims where if he is connected, its only tangentially."

"Like Chandra," Cobb nodded. "But he told Arthur he didn't know her-"

"And he was telling the truth." Fran looked at them. "He only knew her as a colleague. It wasn't her he was interested in."

"So my theory…" Arthur said, slowly, "that he goes after the men and uses women as a gateway-"

"Is completely correct." Fran nodded. "Getting married was a way for him to mask what he was concerned would be perceived as perversity."

Cobb exhaled. "This guy – he's twisted."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Arthur demanded. Fran raised her eyebrows.

"What could I say? That I had my suspicions about my former brother-in-law? Embarrass my family? My sister – who had to move out of state and change her name to cover her tracks? I didn't think Rafe Lloyd was anyone to worry about."

"Until the Caddick case. And you had your suspicions."

"Yep. I did. And then when I interviewed Jensen, it was obvious he was hiding something." She paused. "And then the Caddick's contacted you guys, and its all been from there."

"So we helped confirm what you suspected, but couldn't go to the police over." Arthur finished. "So what do we do now?"

"We find out the truth." Fran looked at them. "And if that means doing another extraction on Rafe, we'll have to. But this time, we all go in."

"Except Ariadne." Arthur looked at them. "I won't have her exposed."

"You'll have to talk to her about that." Cobb stood up. "Lets go and find the others."

* * *

Eames entered the bar, scanning it. He saw him immediately. Dark hair, head thrown back, teasingly running a finger down another man's chest. Eames looked at him. A feeling of revulsion rolled up his throat.

He approached him. Rafe turned, smiling.

"Do I know you?" His face started to split into a grin. "Because if I don't, I really do."

"Yes," Eames replied softly. "I bet you do."


	52. Chapter 52

**Quick Heads up –**

Brief hiatus for this fic – I'm going on holiday for the next week.

This is to say a massive thank you to everyone who has been reading and also reviewing this story – it means a great deal to me.

I'll update when I get back – have a good week, everyone!


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Ariadne!" Arthur knocked on the door of Cobb's apartment, praying she would listen to what he had to say. "Ari, its Arthur, let me in!"

He waited. He heard a click, and then the sound of a bolt sliding back. The Architect stood in front of him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he replied, the words sticking in his throat. He licked his top lip, nervously. "May I come in?"

She shrugged. "Of course."

He followed her into the familiar rooms of Cobb's apartment, and never ceased to marvel at how few personal possessions the Extractor had. Arthur knew that Cobb had never really recovered from Mal's death, and seemed to feel that giving any hint of trying to re-build his life would betray her memory.

"Coffee?" Ariadne's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Water, please."

She nodded, and turned on the faucet. Arthur sat down at the kitchen table. An uncomfortable silence descended. Arthur swallowed, she looked away. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Ari – I need to talk to you about-"

"About what?"

"About what happened." He paused.

"What happened is that you went into a psycho's head, opened yourself up, and freaked." Her tone of voice was flat. Arthur was startled.

"I take it you've been talking to Eames?" He commented, dryly.

"No." Ariadne fixed her eyes on his. "I can come up with my own opinions as well."

Arthur looked into his water glass. "Ari…please let me explain. I was scared. I feel really out of my depth with this case, more so than I've ever done so before. Rafe Lloyd is clever, dangerous, and calculating. And he will kill one of us if he has to."

She blinked. "I've never heard you say anything like that before."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a robot." Arthur said, a touch defensively. "I know what I did was stupid, but…" his voice trailed off. "I'd better go."

"Wait." She put her hand out, as though to stop him. "I'm not judging you Arthur!"

"No, you're not," he said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "You've already made up your mind. I can still protect you, Ariadne, but you need to trust me."

With that, he grabbed his jacket, and left, leaving the Architect staring into her coffee cup.

"Arthur-" she called out, only to hear the front door click shut.

* * *

Eames kept his eyes trained on Rafe's. The black haired man was clearly enjoying the attention.

"So, what do you do?" Eames asked, casually.

"I'm a scientist."

"Really?" Eames took a sip of scotch. "Bit of a Frankenstein, are you?"

Rafe smiled. "God, you're funny." He took a swallow of vodka. "It's a very attractive trait."

"I do my best." Eames kept his tone casual.

"I'm sure you do." Rafe leaned back in his chair. "Do you want to head somewhere else?"

Eames shrugged. "Why not?"

Rafe grabbed his jacket. "Lets go."

* * *

Arthur went to the warehouse. He felt he needed time to think, and in solitude. Going to the tiny kitchenette, he flicked the switch on the kettle.

His mind was buzzing. Fran's story had been so convoluted, so convenient. He was beginning to feel a deep well of mistrust for the psychiatrist, who still appeared to be hiding something.

"Her sister…" Arthur muttered under his breath. He began to mentally trace the patters – she had been married to Rafe Lloyd, who had admitted he had been married in the dream.

He clicked his fingers. Internet. He could trace the family tree in seconds. Taking a scalding swallow of coffee, he switched on his lap top.

* * *

"So, are you ready to go?" Rafe was smiling at Eames, who was already sliding his arms into his jacket.

"Of course," the Forger replied. "Lets go."

As he followed Rafe out the door, Eames steeled himself.

* * *

Cobb smiled at Fran, who reciprocated.

"Thanks for clarifying."

"No problem." She took a sip of coffee. "You're worried about Arthur, aren't you?" She asked abruptly.

Cobb fiddled with his mug. "Yes. Never seen him like this – its as though he's breaking apart."

She sighed. "Well, I'll try and help – but you still want to go ahead with extraction, right?"

Cobb nodded. "Oh, yes." He checked his watch. "I'd better call Eames." He pulled out his cellphone.

* * *

Arthur ran through the files. "Roberts…Roberts…" he muttered. He slammed his hand on the desk in frustration when the search came up blank.

"Unless," he mumbled, "your surname isn't your real name – what are you hiding, doctor?"

He moved the mouse to the browser, and began to search college files. Suddenly, he gripped the desk, his eyes widening. Swallowing, he reached in his pocket to pull out his cell. Flipping it open, he scrawled down to Cobb's name.

"Answer, please," he muttered.

* * *

"Its pretty small," Rafe apologised, " but its adequate."

Eames nodded. "Sounds perfect."

As he followed Rafe us the stairs, he instinctively moved his hand to his side for his gun. He was itching to put a bullet in this vile excuse of a human being. Rafe moved into the main part of the apartment. "Make yourself comfortable!"

Eames merely stood. He had no intention of making himself comfortable.

* * *

"No answer." Cobb switched off his cell. "Strange."

"Maybe he's on his way over here?" Fran suggested.

Cobb frowned. "No, he'd have rung. See if I can get hold of Arthur."

"Oh, here I am, sorry," Rafe apologised, walking back into the living room. As he walked in, he stumbled slightly, his arms moving towards Eames. Eames involuntarily stepped aside, only to feel something sharp penetrate his thigh.

The Forger staggered back, his head suddenly filled with swirling blackness. In desperation, he grabbed at his totem, only to sin down and collapse on the carpet.

Rafe looked at him, and curled his lip. "Sweet dreams."


	54. Chapter 54

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur rubbed his eyes. A gnawing fear was growing in the pit of his stomach. He reached for his cellphone.

* * *

Eames was slumping against the doorway of the apartment. Rafe casually stepped over him, then crouched down beside him.

"You're probably feeling pretty groggy," the dark haired man said, "and it'll wear off in a few hours. And when it does, I'm going to ask you some questions."

Eames mumbled incoherently.

"See, there have been a few people hanging around lately," Rafe continued, "and I'm getting pretty sick of it. I don't know who you all are, but you keep on turning up. Invading my life."

Eames was beginning to lose consciousness completely.

"I don't intend to do anything to you," Rafe said, smoothly. "But I guess there are probably people who care about you…and if anything happened to them…"

Eames shifted. He tried to focus.

"So…who do I call?" Rafe was smiling. "I know, lets check your cellphone! But first, I have to make a call of my own."

He pulled a sleek black phone out of his pocket, and punched in a number. Clearing his throat, he held it to his ear.

"Ryan?" He spoke softly. "Get over here. Now."

* * *

"Cobb? Arthur. Get over here. Now."

* * *

Ariadne listlessly wandered round the apartment. Her fingers kept itching towards the phone, wanting to pick it up and call Arthur.

She sank back into the easy chair in Cobb's lounge. She desperately wished Arthur would call.

* * *

Arthur paced the warehouse. As soon as he heard the door slam downstairs, he sat down, trying to steady his nerves.

Cobb came up the stairs. "Is Fran with you?" The Point Man asked.

"No. She went home to see if Eames went there." Cobb looked at Arthur. "What is it?"

"Look at this." Arthur gestured to the computer screen.

Cobb squinted. On the screen was a photograph. A photograph of two young men, grinning for the camera. _Class of 98, _the screen proclaimed.

Cobb shrugged. "Your finger. Very interesting."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "Look at the names, Dom."

Cobb peered closer. "Rafe Lloyd," he read. "OK, he's a Columbia graduate. But who's the other guy?"

Arthur looked at him. "The key to the whole case. Look at the name!"

Cobb leaned closer. "Ryan Caddick."

He straightened up, his jaw sagging. "Ryan Caddick?"

"There was a projection in the last dream, called Ryan, remember?" Arthur looked at him. "We assumed it was just a projection. But you know, and I know, that real people can be projected in someone's subconscious."

"But…" Cobb swallowed. "Caddick. Her brother?"

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe her husband."

"This is the connection." Cobb looked at Arthur. "This is the link we've been looking for. Jensen will never talk to us again, but if we could find Ryan…"

"…We could perform the extraction. And there's every possibility he might know what happened to the other couple Fran mentioned."

"He may not want to talk to us."

Arthur nodded. "True. But if we perform an extraction…"

"He'll have no choice." Cobb began to smile. "Arthur, thank you."

The Extractor began to pull his cellphone out of his pocket. "I'd better call Fran."

"Why?"

"Because she-"

"Don't tell her." Arthur's voice was firm.

"What?"

"Don't tell her. I mean it. It doesn't add up. She claims her sister was married to Lloyd…which implies she knew about him. But she didn't know that he knew someone who was possibly related to Chandra."

"I think you're jumping to conclusions." Cobb looked at Arthur. "We need to call her."

Arthur shrugged. "Go ahead."

Just as Cobb opened the phone, it rang. "Hey." His face broke into a smile. "Oh, hi!"

* * *

Rafe was scrolling though Eames phone.

"Ryan's late." He sighed. "I hate being kept waiting. Still, you need some company. So who shall I call?"

Eames, barely conscious, hardly heard him.

* * *

Arthur waited while Cobb talked to Phillippa. He marvelled at how controlled the Extractor was – he'd gone from talking about a serial killer to his daughter. Then, his phone rang.

He opened it. "Hello?"

* * *

Ariadne was becoming increasingly anxious. Eames had not returned, and she hadn't heard from the others. She was beginning to feel tearful, when suddenly, her cellphone shrilled.

She clicked on. "Hello?"

"Oh, hi, is that Ariadne?"

"Yes," she said, puzzled. "Who is this?"

"I'm a friend of your friend, Eames. You see, he's collapsed, and I'm feeling really worried."

Ariadne tightened her grip on her phone. "Collapsed?"

"Yes, his breathing is really shallow, and I'm- I'm-"

"Have you called an ambulance?"

"Look, his breathing is getting worse! I'll call an ambulance, but you should come and see him. He's on his own, and I'm a stranger."

Ariadne swallowed. "O..K…" she said, slowly. "Where are you?"

"I'm at Decatur Street, outside the 7-11. I know I shouldn't have called, but you're the first name in his phone book."

Ariadne tried to swallow her fears. "OK, I'll meet you there."

* * *

"Fran," Arthur said, "I haven't seen Eames." He paused. "No, I have no idea where he could be."

Cobb was looking at him. "Fran?"

"Yes." Arthur looked puzzled. "She wanted to know where Eames is."

"You mean he's not at his place? Or hers?"

"She called Ari half an hour ago. No."

Cobb shook his head. "I should put you all on reins," he grumbled.

* * *

Ariadne stood on the corner, shivering slightly. Suddenly, a man appeared. She blinked. He looked strangely familiar.

"Where's Eames?" She asked, nerves roughening her voice.

"Oh, don't worry," the man said, smoothly. "I'll take you to him." He took her arm. "Its just this way."


	55. Chapter 55

Eames shifted slightly, and groaned. He could feel a stabbing pain along his shoulder, searing into the muscle. He raised his arm, and rubbed his forehead, wincing.

No-one spoke. He flicked his eyes around. The light was gloomy, but he could make out vague, indistinct shapes of furniture. He put his hand against the wall, and tried to lift himself up.

He gasped with relief. He could still stand. Now all he had to do was get out.

* * *

"So, what happened?" Ariadne asked, casting sidelong glances at the stranger. His profile was sharply illuminated in the oncoming beams of cars.

"Well, I was just taking my garbage out, and I heard a groaning sound. I dumped the bag, and then hurried out onto the street. I found him, lying there."

Ariadne shuddered. "Poor Eames."

"Yeah, he stank of alcohol."

The Architect licked her lip nervously. She felt unnerved, and wish she'd had the sense to call Arthur or Cobb. "Did you take him up to your apartment?"

The man laughed. "Honey, there is no way I could have lifted a guy that size. I took him into my downstair's neighbours' place. He's there now. He was pretty strung out, so I thought calling a friend was the best bet."

Ariadne felt reassured. He seemed good hearted. She cast another sidelong glance. He was good looking, she thought, with clear features and fair skin. The slightness of his build reminded her of Arthur. She smiled slightly.

He was looking at her. "You ok?"

"Oh, yes," she laughed, "I just thought…" she blushed.

He smiled, kindly. "Save it for later. Lets get to your friend, OK?"

* * *

"So what do we know?" Cobb demanded. "That Rafe Lloyd – our suspect – is known to the Caddicks, at least her brother. Which means he knew her."

"Which means-" Arthur looked at Cobb – "that it wasn't a date that they went on."

"What?"

Arthur looked at Cobb. "Dom. What if you saw you brother help kill somebody. And they had no choice but to kill you to keep it quiet. Except – they then found a local neighbourhood patsy to pin the blame on."

Cobb swallowed. "The couple Fran mentioned –"

Arthur nodded. "Rafe Lloyd and Ryan Caddick were working together. They killed two people, and either Ryan blabbed, or Chandra found out – but she then followed them to their next job and-"

"Whoa!" Cobb held his hands up. "Slow down! This is going too fast, Arthur!"

Arthur swallowed. "I'm just suggesting-"

"No, you're speculating!" Cobb rubbed his forehead. "You're speculating, and at the moment, we know one thing only – this case is a mess!"

The Point Man looked at Cobb. "So what do you suggest we do?"

"I suggest we stop thinking about what could have happened, and focus on the what has happened. We'll get Lloyd, sedate him, and extract from him every dirty little secret he's hiding, right down to High School. Then we'll hand him over to the police."

"OK." Arthur exhaled slowly. "I get your point. But what about Fran?"

Cobb swallowed. "I'm not sure we can have her involved anymore. This is getting too complicated. She has told us that her sister was married to Rafe –"

"But she isn't giving away anything else," Arthur finished. "If she was so desperate to bring Lloyd down, wouldn't she have discreetly tipped us off?"

"Arthur-" Cobb paused. "Are you saying you think Fran is involved in this?"

"No." Arthur looked at him. "But she's not being completely honest, and I will always maintain that." He checked his watch. "Its getting late. Lets see if we can find Eames and Ariadne."

* * *

"Its just down here."

Ariadne shivered. They'd been walking for the best part of fifteen minutes, and cold was starting to creep in. He noticed.

"You're cold," he said, his voice soft. She shook her head, but he raised his eyebrows.

"Here," he said, generously, "take my jacket."

She nodded her thanks as she pulled the black leather around her. "Its just this way."

* * *

Eames stepped uncertainly into the darkness of the room. Putting one hand out, he brushed against something – a standing light. Fumbling, he switched it on.

He blinked. He was in a warehouse. A furniture warehouse. And as he looked around vainly, he could not see any doors.

Eames felt a wave of shock roll over him. For the first time in a long time, he felt completely helpless.

* * *

Arthur held his cellphone to his ear, a puzzled look on his face. He clicked off.

"Something wrong?"

"Just tried Ariadne. She's not answering."

"Maybe she's in the shower…?"

"And maybe she's not there." They both turned. Fran had entered the warehouse, a worried expression on her face.

"Fran!" Cobb looked relieved to see the psychiatrist, Arthur noted. He nodded. She smiled wryly.

"I can't find Eames," she said. "He's not at your place, or my place – or your place," she nodded at Arthur.

"So where are they?" Cobb asked, exasperated.

Arthur looked at the Extractor. "I have a feeling that they may have been-" he swallowed.

The Extractor looked at him. "I hope you're not going to say what I think, Arthur."

* * *

"Oh, its just in here."

Ariadne found herself being ushered through a door. As she walked into the dark entrance, Rafe switched on the lights.

She blinked. "Hey – where's Eames?"

"In a safe place."

She turned to look at him. "What?"

"He's in a nice safe place," Rafe said smoothly. "Now, give me your cell phone."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "What for?"

Rafe smiled.

"I want to call Arthur."

* * *

"So what's the plan?"

Arthur swallowed. "I vote we find Lloyd, sedation, and perform an extraction. First layer - what I did to the Caddicks. Then- what I did to others. And finally - why I'm a murdering psychopath who should be shut away until-"

"Arthur," Fran spoke, "calm down."

Furious, Arthur turned on her. "Don't tell me to calm down! If you'd told us everything from the start, we wouldn't be-" he broke off. His cellphone was ringing. Pulling it out, he unslid it and held it to his ear. "Hello?"


	56. Chapter 56

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Rafe smiled at Ariadne. The Architect was perched on a chair, her eyes drinking in the apartment. He stretched, letting his leather backed chair creak under his movements.

"Arthur?" He said, a slight note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes?"

"You don't know me…but I think I've found a friend of yours."

"Who?"

"Her driver's ID says Ariadne. You're the first name in her cell phone."

There was a pause.

"Who is this?"

Rafe paused. "We don't know each other. Look, I've found your friend in the street – she looks quite badly hurt…"

"Hurt?"

"There's blood on her face."

* * *

Arthur looked at Cobb and Fran, his face whitening. "Its Lloyd."

"How do you know?" Cobb asked, his lips tightening.

"His voice." Arthur looked at them. "I recognise his voice."

* * *

Ariadne swallowed. Rafe had paused, and she needed to relieve herself. She put her hands on the sides of the chair, and made to push herself up. Rafe turned and looked at her. The coldness in his eyes made her sink slowly back into the chair.

"So…yeah…I'm worried." Rafe paused. "Where is she? I'm at the corner of Mitchell street. The apartment block is called Delatour. No. 15. I don't know what happened, but she looks like she got assaulted….ok, see you soon."

He clicked off, and turned to the Architect. "Arthur – he has a really lovely voice, doesn't he?"

* * *

"Arthur!" Cobb walked after the Point Man, who was striding towards the door. "Stop it!

He turned, furious. "Stop what?"

"Doing this! Going out on your own!" Cobb's anger had a pleading note to it. "Let me go with you!"

"Dom," Arthur said, calmly, "Eames has gone missing, and that creep has Ariadne. He wants me to go after her – he rung me!"

Cobb swallowed. "Arthur…"

"What?"

"You're making this all about you."

* * *

Eames shifted. He felt weak, and dehydrated. Closing his eyes, he tried to fall into sleep.

* * *

"What do you want?" Ariadne was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

"Not you." Rafe shook his head. "I'm sorry. You're not my type."

"But you want Arthur."

"Yes, I do." Rafe looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "I think he came and saw me once, pretending to be a journalist. I called the magazine he claimed to work for, and they told me they'd never heard of him. I did some scouting. After all, I am a researcher."

Ariadne swallowed.

"I have no idea why I'm being stalked by Arthur…" Rafe let his voice trail off. "I can't wait to find out."

Ariadne opened her mouth, then closed it. Rafe looked at her. "Yes?"

"He-"

"Yes?"

"He thinks you killed somebody." The words came out in a rush, and she regretted saying it.

Rafe arched an eyebrow. "Really? Well, I'll try not to disappoint him."

* * *

"All about me?" Arthur's voice was hard. "Would you care to explain that?"

"OK." Cobb looked at him. "You've been fighting me on this case since the beginning. When we went into Jensen's mind, you went after him, alone. And what happened? It collapsed! Jensen's now a gibbering wreck, and thanks to you going it alone, going after Lloyd, he now has Ariadne and Eames! Don't you realise Arthur? You've led us straight into the trap of a killer!"

Arthur's mouth thinned. "Oh. I see. It was nothing to do with you, then?"

Cobb flushed. "That's not the point. Ultimately, we need to find the other half of our team. And we need to find Lloyd."

"And perform the extraction," Arthur finished. "Find out what Lloyd and her brother did to Chandra Caddick. And to the other couple. And where they dumped Fran's sister's body."

"What?" Cobb burst out.

Arthur turned to Fran. "That's the secret you've never revealed, isn't it? The reason you wanted to find Lloyd, is because your sister's dead. And you think he killed her."

Fran swallowed. "Arthur-"

"Don't." Arthur looked straight at her, his brown eyes locking with her hazel ones. "Tell me the truth. Your sister disappeared, not to another state – she's dead. Rafe Lloyd killed her. Or you think he did."

The psychiatrist looked at him. "Yes."

"But she was married to Lloyd?"

"Yes."

"And you want us to extract where her body is…"

"Yes."

Arthur swallowed. "Where you going to tell us?"

She looked at him. "How could I? You'd think I was only involved for personal reasons."

He shrugged. "OK, fair enough."

Cobb spoke. "So what do we do?"

"Its simple." Arthur looked at him. "We find our team. Then we extract. We'll find out where those four bodies are, and Lloyd's accomplices. And we also find Ryan Caddick."

"Arthur," Cobb spoke. "Just remember what he did to you in a dream. Please."

The Point Man looked at the Extractor. "Trust me, Dom, I can't forget."

* * *

Eames felt himself falling into darkness. His chest relaxed, and his breathing became rhythmic.

* * *

Rafe tapped his fingers impatiently. "I really don't like to be kept waiting…would you like some water?"

Ariadne started. "No, thank you."

"OK, I did offer." He leaned back. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

Rafe got up, and unlatched it. As he creaked it open, he smiled.

"Arthur. So you finally decided to stop snooping around, did you?"


	57. Chapter 57

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur walked into the apartment. As he followed the dark haired man in, he became aware that his breathing had begun increasingly shallow. Rafe turned.

"Are you ok?" the tone was so courteous, that for a moment, Arthur wondered if he'd made a hideous mistake.

"I'm fine," he said, curtly. "Where's Ariadne?"

Rafe looked surprised. "She's right in there."

Arthur pushed the door open, and saw the Architect. His mouth went dry. "Ari?"

She jumped up. "Arthur!"

The Point Man, on impulse, opened his arms. As soon as she came close, he pulled her into them. "Thank Christ," he murmured.

Rafe shrugged. "OK, Ariadne – its been a pleasure. There's the door."

She pulled away slightly from Arthur, her mouth dropping open. "You're letting us leave?"

"No," Rafe said smoothly. "Just you."

* * *

Fran leaned back in her seat; Cobb swallowed. "You ok?"

She turned to him. "Do you want an answer? Eames is missing, Ariadne is with my ex-brother-in-law, and Arthur's made it very clear he doesn't trust me. So, nope, ok doesn't cover it."

"Arthur's just upset," Cobb said, hurriedly. "He really cares about Ari-"

"And I really care about Eames!" Fran snapped.

The Extractor exhaled. "I know. We just have to wait." Turning his head, he looked at the apartment block.

* * *

"You mean you're going to let her go?"

Rafe smiled. "Is there an echo in here? Of course. I don't go for hamburgers when the fillet steak has just arrived."

Arthur's face darkened. "You-"

"Save it," Rafe said coolly. "I think we need to talk, Arthur. The only reason I went for her, was so I could get you. You didn't have to pose as a journalist and snoop around my lab. I would have been just as happy if you'd approached me on the street."

Arthur glared at the dark haired man. "Ari. Go. The others are outside."

The Architect looked at him. "Arthur-"

"I'd do as he says," Rafe sneered. "He's really into giving orders, isn't he? Which suits me," he said softly.

The Point Man flinched. Ariadne hurried to the door, not daring to look back.

* * *

Cobb flipped his cellphone open. "You're calling…?"

"Might be the only way to get in touch with Eames." Cobb swallowed, and scrolled through his contacts list.

* * *

Rafe stood and watched her go. "She's very sweet," he commented. "I can see exactly why you want to get between her legs." He looked at him.

Arthur flinched. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Rafe said, sitting down in an armchair. "Don't tell you what you think every time you look at her? You look at her, Arthur, and you imagine what kind of expression she'd pull. You imagine for how long she'd be willing to blow you-" He paused. "Actually, Arthur – how long would you be willing to have her do that?"

Arthur took a step forward. "If you don't stop," he said, softly, "I will kill you."

"Why would you do that?" Rafe asked, his eyes narrowing. "Is it because you don't like what I'm saying? Or is it because its too close to the truth?"

Arthur looked at him. "What if I tell you you're right?" He paused, waiting to see if the other man's expression changed. "You're absolutely right. I look at her, and imagine her writhing and screaming beneath me. Imagine her with my fingernails scratching on her back." He swallowed.

"No, you don't."

Arthur looked at Rafe. "What?"

"You don't," he said, calmly. "You won't let yourself. Everytime you look at her, there's part of you that wonders what she'd sound like, screaming your name, and spread out beneath you. But you're trying to keep that buried inside, so you focus on the vanilla. The holding her hand, the stroking her hair. And you know, Arthur, that the longer you do this, the more frustrated you're going to get. And the more angry. Until one day you snap, and you just want to make her hurt. Make her hurt for all the pain she's inflicted on you."

"I'd like to make you hurt," Arthur said, looking at him directly. He walked over to Rafe, and crouched, so they were on eye level. "I'd like to make you hurt, Rafe. I'd like to make you scream in agony."

Rafe smiled, and leaned forward. "Of course you do. You want to do it out of a self-righteous sense of justice, Arthur. You want to kill me, because in your view, I don't deserve to live. But that's not good enough. If I just die, with a bullet through my chest, or through my head, it'll be too quick. Too painless. You want me to suffer."

"And you're surprised?" Arthur said, his voice calm and steady. "You killed four people. Every single one of them had a life. Every single one of them had someone who loved them. And you stood by and watched them die."

Rafe's eyes were hard. "You think I killed four people. You're convinced of that. But you're fascinated by me, Arthur. You must be, or you wouldn't come to my lab. You wouldn't have agreed to meet me for drinks."

"You don't fascinate me," Arthur said, calmly. "You disgust me." He got up, and walked to the other side of the room. "When we were first offered this case, my colleague and I went to Chandra Caddick's mother's house. There was a photo of her on the bureau. She was young, she had her-"

"Whole life stretched ahead of her, I know, spare me the clichés." Rafe looked at him. "Do you want all the details? Does the tale of what happened to her turn you on? Because I bet, under that repressed, cold exterior, it probably is."

Arthur looked straight at him, and smiled.

"The thought of a young woman being murdered doesn't turn me." His voice was soft. "The thought of someone being terrified half to death. What did she do, Rafe? Was she begging for her life? Was she crying for her mother? Did she promise you that she'd never tell anyone, as long as you let her go?" He saw the other man's face darken.

* * *

Fran looked at Cobb. "Well?"

"No answer." Cobb sighed in frustration. "God knows-" he broke off as he heard a knocking at the window. He turned. "Ari!"

Fran turned and pulled the door handle. "What happened?"

"He let me go," Ariadne said, breathlessly. "But Arthur's in there – with him-" she swallowed.

"Get in." Cobb gestured. "We'll wait. Arthur said he'd call me."

* * *

"You think you've got it all figured out, haven't you?" Rafe said, calmly.

"I know that you were helped by Michael Jensen, and he stood trial for you. I know that you were married. And I know your ex-wife's sister."

"Well," Rafe said, "you know it all. So why not just kill me? Or call the police?"

"Because," Arthur said, "you'll never tell them where the bodies are. The body of Chandra Caddick, the body of the couple you murdered, and the body of your ex-wife. You'll never tell the police. And that's why you'll never get the sentence you deserve. I need the evidence of where the bodies are."

"You think I'm going to tell you?" Rafe looked at him. "You know what you are? You're an overgrown boy scout, motivated by a self-righteous attitude. Killing people, is wrong. Wanting to have sex, is wrong."

"I've heard enough."

"Are you sure?" Rafe cocked an eyebrow. "Because this is just getting interesting. You've found out things that got covered. And you know something else? The more you find out about me, the more you find out about you."

"The only reason I'm here," Arthur said shortly, "is to find out from you." He pulled out his gun. "Sit down."

Rafe did. Arthur kept his arm stretched out, with the gun at point blank range. He swallowed. Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone, and opened it. Putting his finger on speed dial, he called Cobb.

"You waiting for help?" Rafe asked, smiling.

* * *

Cobb started as his cellphone shrilled into life. "Arthur!"

He began to unlock the door, only to rear back as a bullet shattered the front windscreen. Fran ducked in the passenger seat, as Ariadne did in the back.

The Architect blinked, and began to look up. When she saw the facial features of the assailant, she gasped.

* * *

Arthur kept his gun trained on Rafe. The other man didn't even move.

"Well…" he said, softly. "Looks like you're all alone."

The Point Man swallowed. "Really?"

"Where they…waiting outside?" Rafe said, calmly. "Because if they were, it's a coincidence – I've got someone waiting outside as well."

Arthur suddenly felt himself grow cold. "Ryan?"

"Yep," Rafe said, almost carelessly. "It's a funny thing. He protects me. He's good like that."

"He's Chandra's brother, isn't he?"

"Indeed. We were at college together. He didn't lose his head. Unlike Mike."

"He's your boyfriend?" Arthur knew he had to keep Rafe talking.

"He's one of…several."

Rafe looked at Arthur.

"Still…he's out there protecting me…and no-one's coming to help you." He walked up to the Point Man. "Looks like you're on your own…Bambi."


	58. Chapter 58

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur stiffened ."What did you call me?"

"I called you 'Bambi'", Rafe looked at him, and smiled. "Because you have these big brown eyes…and these frail looking limbs…and you clearly are convinced I'm the big bad wolf."

Arthur swallowed. An uncomfortable memory was starting to inch its way to the forefront of his mind. He looked at Rafe.

"Suppose…I'm the little fawn that wants to be caught," he said, hating the words as they fell from his lips. Rafe raised his eyebrows.

"Arthur…if you didn't want to be caught, you wouldn't have come here. What did you really come here for? If it was for her, you'd have left with her, and possibly put a bullet in my skull. But you're staying. You're staying here, with someone you claim to despise." Rafe licked his top lip.

* * *

Cobb took a deep breath. "Hold on." Putting his foot down, he threw the car into reverse. After backing up, he drove it straight at the assailant.

* * *

Arthur took a step forward. "What is it about murder that turns you on?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because of the way you're looking at me."

"Yeah…I guess I am. I'm sorry, Arthur. Part of me is wondering if you're a screamer or a grunter, the other part is wondering what your head would look like when I dissect it from your torso."

Arthur shivered. "So…I'm just an object to you."

"Of course. You see, the thing with murder, is when you find your target, you zero in on it. You study it, closely. You look for the flaws, for the weak spots. And you know what yours is? The fact that when you're with them, you're all pretty tough. But alone? You're just weak and helpless. You may have a gun, but how are you going to explain killing me with that? Go straight to jail, don't collect $200."

"You seem to know a lot about us." Arthur swallowed. "Who told you? Was it…" Arthur felt his throat constrict – "was it Fran?"

"Fran?" Rafe looked at him, askance. "Oh, God, no! Are you referring to my dear ex-sister in law? She fucking hates me. No, Arthur, I'm referring to someone else, who you became acquainted with. His name is Ryan…but I think you might know him better as…John."

"John…" Arthur paused. Suddenly, he remembered.

"Yeah, the guy in the bar. Who you and the British guy made a move on. Or at least, he thought you did. Very clever."

"You've known all along-"

"Yes." Rafe stood up. His eyes were narrowed. "So, Arthur, here's your chance. Are you going to kill me, and play the hero, or not? Because, if its not, please just get in the bedroom. Because the thought of you is making me we-"

His words were abruptly cut off as Arthur threw a punch, hitting him squarely in the mouth. Rafe staggered back, and glared at the Point Man. Before Arthur could compose himself, he found himself thrown back onto the floor.

* * *

Fran got out of the car and slammed the door. "Hang on."

Ariadne bit her lip, anxiously. Cobb leaned out the window. "Well?"

"He's alive, but you definitely got his leg." She grinned, wryly. "Nice one, Dom."

"Do you have a name?"

"He's not in a fit state to talk. I suggest we ring for an ambulance."

"Arthur-" Ariadne paused. "Arthur is in there – with Rafe."

Fran swallowed. "I'll go."

"Fran-"

"He's my ex-brother in law."

* * *

Arthur shifted quickly. Rafe's fingers – long, pale, and invasive – were heading for his face. He put the palm of his hand up, and smacked the other man in the jaw. Rafe spat a mouthful of bloody salivia out and aimed a punch at Arthur's face. He moved, quickly, and the man's fist hit the floor.

Swivelling, Arthur locked his legs under his assailant's torso, and pushed. The other man fell against the wall,cursing. Arthur got up, and reached for his gun. Suddenly, his leg was kicked from under him. He stumbled, and grabbed onto the back of a chair.

Arthur felt something sharp prick against his skin. "What?"

"Just relax, Art. This isn't going to hurt at all."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "Don't. Just don't."

"You think you can stop me?" Rafe's voice was mocking. "Your friend Eames couldn't!"

Arthur turned, trying to avoid the sharp syringe. "Where is Eames?"

"He's right here."

"Don't lie to me, you piece of shit! Where is he?"

"Arthur. Eames is fast asleep in the other room. I gave him a little sedative."

"What?"

"Eames is currently deep in his own head…I gave him a sedative that'll send him somewhere."

Arthur turned. "You are a-"

"Sick, twisted, bastard? I think he knows that, Arthur."

Arthur turned, swallowing. "Fran."

Rafe looked at her. "Fran. Good to see you. I'm about to kill them both. Care to join me?"


	59. Chapter 59

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb opened the car door and got out, running to the side of their assailant. Ariadne was following him.

"Stay back!" Cobb ordered. The Architect complied, taking a step backwards.

"So…"

"He's unconscious," Cobb said, checking his pulse, "but still alive. Go to the trunk."

Ariadne complied, and unlocked it. Reaching in, she pulled out the PASIV.

"Cobb," she wished she sounded less nervous, "are we going to perform the extraction tonight?"

"Yes," the Extractor said, tersely. " Because it might be our only chance."

* * *

"Its good to see you again, Fran." Rafe looked at the psychiatrist. "I take it you're not here for my evaluation?"

"Very perceptive." Fran walked forward. "What are you going to do to Arthur?"

Rafe smiled, still holding the syringe. "Put it this way – its something he won't forget, but he'll want to."

"Were you her patient?" Arthur asked. He knew he had to remind Rafe that he was still there, to stop him viewing him purely as an object.

"Actually, we were in college together." Rafe smirked.

"What?"

"College. I majored in Biochem, Fran in psych. And Ryan…" Rafe traced the needle over Arthur's skin, "was in Biology."

"So that's how he met your sister?"

"Yes," Fran said, looking at Arthur. "That's how. He met her through me." She looked at Rafe. "And she never told me why she feared for her life when she was with you."

Rafe shrugged. "She was never bruised though, was she?"

"Not where it was noticeable."

Rafe looked unrepentant. "Fran. There are always casualties."

"You killed her."

"Yep. But I had to."

"Why?"

"She was getting to close to the truth." He turned, and glared at Arthur. "And so is he. Help me get rid of him, and I'll let you go."

* * *

"Got it?" Cobb asked. Ariadne nodded. "OK, lets go."

"What about Eames?"

Cobb swallowed. "Something tells me he's there as well. And we might find out the truth to it all."

* * *

"What do you want me to do?"

"Tie him up. Here-" Rafe placed the syringe on the coffee table, and pulled some rope out from under the couch. "Make sure he's bound at the wrists, and ankles."

Fran licked her top lip. "Anything else?"

"Yeah." Rafe disappeared into the kitchen, and came back with tarpaulin. "After he's tied, we wrap him in this. And then-" he looked at Arthur, his coal black eyes boring into the Point Man.

"We drive down to the nearest lake. And throw him in." Rafe turned to Fran, smiling. "It's a long, cold, painful way to die. But if it gets the message home, its worth it."

Arthur found his voice. "Fran. You can't be serious. You must know he won't let you go. He'll-"

"No, he'll let me go." Fran looked at Rafe. "Because he'll need a psych to defend him."

Rafe smiled. "Thanks. But we both know that's never going to happen."

Fran picked up the rope. Where's Eames?"

Rafe nodded in the direction of the bedroom. "In there. I suggest we do the same. Two bodies pulled out of the water – if they ever bother to dredge the lake."

"Is that what you did to your victims?" Arthur found his voice. "You drowned them?"

Rafe looked at Arthur, raising his eyebrows. "No. Trust me, I'm usually more imaginative, but in your case, I'm having to do this quickly."

Arthur swallowed. "And what if it doesn't kill me?"

"You suffer." Rafe looked at him. "You suffer, bambi."

Arthur looked at Rafe. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You're enjoying the prospect of me dying."

"Absolutely. It's the thrill."

Arthur turned to Fran. "Fran – do you really want to do this? Really?"

"Shut up, Arthur." Her voice was cold. "The minute you walked into my office I knew you didn't trust me. Do you want a little bit of free therapy? You're cold. You're repressed. You can't handle your own feelings, and that's why you can't deal with this case."

"I'm not a killer." Arthur looked at her. "Not just out of blood lust. Not just out of psychosis."

Rafe smirked at him. "Shame. You don't know what you missed."

* * *

Cobb and Ariadne entered the building. Ariadne swallowed. "Cobb?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Arthur's…?"

Cobb looked at her. "He has to be."

* * *

"I reckon that's tight enough." Fran pulled the rope round Arthur's ankles. "He's not going anywhere."

"I have a name," Arthur said, through gritted teeth.

"Not anymore. You've ceased to be a person, you're now just an object." Fran looked at him, disapassionately. "You know what I'm looking forward to, Rafe?"

"Shoot."

"I'm looking forward to listening to this accusatory, snobbish, cold individual being silenced forever."

"You and me both," Rafe commented. He walked round behind Arthur. "Maybe I should just break his neck."

"I wouldn't." Fran looked at him. "He'll scream. Come on, lets get him moving."

Arthur swallowed. "Fran. Please. Don't."

She looked at him. "You've always made your feelings towards me clear, Arthur. How does it feel to have the same?"

Rafe called. "Fran! Help me with this tarp!"

She nodded. "Of course." Walking over, she grabbed the end of the tarpaulin. "OK, lets go."

Rafe stood up. "Yes. Let's-"

He paused, and started rubbing his shoulder. "Ow!"

"You ok?" Fran asked.

"Feel like something stung-" he turned. "Did you-?" He looked at her. Fran was holding the syringe. She met his eyes.

"You know what your problem is, Rafe?" She asked softly. "You judge everyone by your standards. You think everyone must take pleasure in sadism. They don't. And I'm going to find out what you did. What you had to kill my sister for."

He was swaying. "You…"

"Save it," Fran said, curtly, and watched as he crumpled and hit the floor. She turned to Arthur.

"OK…shall we get ready for the extraction?"

Arthur's breathing was rapid. "Fran, you-"

"You can insult me later," she said, as she began to pull the ropes off his ankles. "Here. I'm sorry. But, with Rafe, unless he thinks you're on his side, he'll just kill you."

"Where are the others?" Arthur asked.

"Coming up." Fran hurried into the bedroom. "Arthur! Eames is in here."

Arthur hastily pulled the ropes off and followed her. The Forger was lying on the bed, looking as though he were sleeping peacefully.

"What is in that sedative?" Arthur asked.

"God knows, but strong enough to knock someone out for several hours." She looked at Arthur. "Does Ariadne have the plans for this?"

"She should do."

"OK. Listen, I'm coming with you guys this time."

Arthur looked at her. "That's fine."

There was a knock on the door. Fran swallowed. "I guess this is it."

Arthur looked at Rafe's cold, still face. "Yes. It is."


	60. Chapter 60

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

_"Are you ready?"_

_"Yeah, lets just get this over with. How long have we got?"_

_"We have two days at this level."_

_"Are you guys ready?"_

_"OK, thats it. Sweet dreams."_

* * *

Arthur shifted, and rubbed his forehead. His head had been resting on a hard wooden surface. Sitting up straight, he blinked. A young woman was standing in front of him, looking at him curiously.

"Here are the papers you asked for," She handed him a cardboard folder.

Arthur shifted in his seat. "Thank you – Miss…?"

"Nurse," the young woman said, looking slightly annoyed. "Its Nurse Spaulding, Dr Ogilvie."

"Oh- of course," Arthur flushed slightly.

"Your patient's been ready for the last half hour," she continued, the irritation in her voice fading slightly.

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "I know. Where are they, please?"

"Downstairs. End of the hall."

Arthur got up. He tried to steady his breathing, but found it was impossible. They were actually in Lloyd's head, and despite the pristine, sterile atmosphere of the maze Ariadne had designed, he could feel a pulse of menace.

He rubbed his face, and swallowed. "Be right there."

* * *

Ariadne focused on the small cart she was pushing down the sterile corridor. She licked her lips, nervously. The design for Rafe's extraction, she'd felt, would have to be somewhere secure. A hospital had seemed the obvious choice.

Suddenly, a voice boomed out. "Nurse!"

Ariadne jumped slightly, then relaxed as she saw Cobb approach. The Extractor was in a white coat, and walking towards her purposefully.

"Nurse, I need the dose of temezapam for the patient in room 4." She nodded. "Of course." He took the small bottle as she offered it to him.

"Just remember," he whispered, close to her ear, "don't do anything to excite the projections."

She nodded. "Of course. Where are the others?"

"Arthur is in his office; Eames should be in a bed somewhere; Rafe – well, we have to find him."

"What about Fran?"

"I'm right here," the psychiatrist commented. Also dressed in a white coat, she smiled at Ariadne. "It's a perfect design."

The Architect nodded. "Lots of corridors."

"Listen," Cobb commented, "we only have – " he checked his watch – "two days in this level. We need to extract that information from Lloyd. And we need to do it before his projections realise-"

He broke off. A loud, angry groaning was coming from a room further down the hallway. Cobb gestured to Fran and Ariadne. "Come on."

They hurried down the hall. As they entered the room, Fran felt her throat constrict. "Oh, God."

"Get away from me! Get away!" Eames was writhing on the floor, trying to lash out at two orderlies. They were trying to restrain him, leading to one being punched in the mouth.

"Whats going on?" Ariadne asked, her voice fearful.

"He's been sedated by Lloyd, and then put under," Cobb murmured. "Whatever Lloyd has given him is sending him into a state of delusion."

Fran looked at Cobb. "Why did you insist he went under with us?"

"Because we need him. He's the Forger."

The psychiatrist nodded. "OK. Let me deal with this." She walked over to the writhing Eames, who was practically tearing his tunic off.

Cobb looked at Ariadne. "Fran has this under control. We need to find Arthur."

* * *

"So where is the patient?"

"Right down here, doctor."

Arthur followed the nurse, whose eyes kept surveying him, coldly. "The patient is down here, Dr Ogilvie."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

She pushed open a door, that led into a small room. "They're in here."

Arthur walked in. As he did so, his heart began to pound.

A young woman was sitting on the bed, cross legged. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, gazing into the distance. Arthur blinked, the memory of a photograph coming into his mind. He spoke aloud, not realising.

"Chandra Caddick."


	61. Chapter 61

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Fran paused, and knelt down next to Eames. The Forger was still writhing, but it was lessening. She swallowed, and tentatively reached out.

"Can you hear me?" Her voice was soft. Suddenly, another voice was heard.

"I wouldn't bother. He's going nowhere. Trapped in his own head."

Turning, Fran met Rafe's eyes. "What do you mean?" She asked, coolly.

Rafe smirked. "He thinks its all a dream. But, this is reality."

* * *

Arthur smiled at the young woman. Her face was blank. Swallowing, he walked round the edge of the bed, and faced her.

"Hello," he said, gently, "what's your name?"

"Chandra." The voice was toneless. Despite himself, the Point Man shivered.

"I'm Arthur," he said, trying to maintain an air of confidence. "I need to ask you some questions. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Right," Arthur began, looking at her. "Why are you here?"

"He told me to come here."

"Did he?" Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Who is he?"

"He told me he'd help me."

"OK...but who is he?"

She started to shake slightly. "I can't tell you."

"You can't – or you won't?" Arthur said, kindly. "You can. Trust me."

She looked at the Point Man, her eyes narrowing. "That's exactly what he said."

* * *

Fran looked from Eames to Rafe. "What do you think is making him think its all a dream?"

"Its very simple," Rafe answered, his voice tinged with arrogance. "He's delusional. He's suffering from a psychotic state, in which he thinks he's involved in some form of espionage group." Rafe's eyes narrowed, boring into hers. "He thinks he's part of a group that are involved in invading people's dreams. Trying to find information."

As she looked at him, Fran willed herself to stay calm. "And how do you know this?"

Rafe smirked. "I just do. Sorry, Doctor, but I have another appointment. Enjoy!" Before Fran could move, he'd switftly moved past her, locking the door behind him.

Fran swallowed. Eames was lying, silent, but with a slightly desperate look in his eyes. She reached out, and touched his shoulder.

"Don't give up," she whispered. "You're trapped in your own head."

Standing up, and looking around, she spotted the PASIV. Swallowing, she began to pull out the IVs, determined to take herself under. She rubbed her forehead. Going into Eames' mind…if Arthur obtained the information, and the kick was performed, they could end up in limbo.

Fran plugged the IV into her arm, and ensured it was attached to Eames. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and hit the button.

* * *

Dom and Ariadne paused. They could hear shouts and screams from behind the walls. Ariadne was visibly paling.

"We need to get out of here," she whispered. Cobb nodded. "We need to find Arthur."

Suddenly, a loud shout was heard from down the corridor. Swallowing, Cobb began to move in the opposite direction.

"We can't stay here," he whispered. "We're going to attract attention. Lets move."

"Who told you?" Arthur pulled a chair out, and sat down. He looked at Chandra. "Who told you that?"

"It was his friend."

"His friend? Which one?"

"He said his name was John."

Arthur blinked. "John? Were you with anyone?"

She shook her head. "No. I agreed to go out with him as a friend. I had a boyfriend, it wasn't serious."

"What happened?"

"We met after work. We went for a couple of drinks. Then he suggested a drive."

Arthur swallowed. He had a knot of ice forming in his stomach. "A drive? Why?"

She looked at him, her eyes darkly shadowed. "Why do you think?"

Arthur blushed, furious with his own naivety. "So…what happened next?"

She paused. "We were in the car. And he was trying to-" she stopped, her face flushing. "He tried to put his hands up my shirt. I pulled away." She paused. Arthur could see a bead of sweat beginning to break out on her forehead.

"Please continue," he said, gently.

"Then the car door opened." She stopped, and looked at Arthur. "And-"

Suddenly, the door crashed open. Arthur turned, trying to keep his face composed. A male nurse had entered, holding a syringe. "Time for medication."

"Chandra doesn't need medication," Arthur said, firmly. "She's talking to me."

The nurse's eyes glittered. "Its not for her. Its for you."

* * *

Cobb looked round a corridor. "Its clear. Ari-" he turned to the Architect – "you designed the layout, where is Arthur?"

The Architect swallowed. "I put an office for him in on the second floor. He should be down there." She looked at the Extractor. "The quickest way to get there is by taking the stairs."

Cobb nodded. "Lets go. Which way is the stairwell?"

She pointed. "Its just down the corridor."

They hurried towards it. "We have no idea where Lloyd is," Cobb murmured. "He could be with Arthur."

"Or Eames," Ariadne said, shivering. Cobb shook his head. "No chance. Fran will have seen to that, trust me."

* * *

Fran opened her eyes, and blinked. She shivered slightly, realising she was lying on her back on a concrete floor. Sitting up, she looked around, trying to ascertain her surroundings.

A warehouse. She was in a warehouse – which, she assumed, was where Eames had gone when Rafe had sedated him. A scattered maze of junk was strewn across the space.

She stood up. "Eames?" She called out, noting her voice was surprisingly loud in such a confined space. "Eames, can you hear me?"

No response. Biting her lip, she began to pick her way carefully through the obstacles.

* * *

Arthur looked at the nurse. "I don't need it. Excuse me."

Suddenly, the nurse lunged, and grabbing Arthur by the throat, pushed him up against the wall. The Point Man reached out with his other arm, hooking it over to try and pull his assailant's arm downwards.

"Forget it," the nurse hissed. "Just take it, ok?"

Arthur curled his fist, ready to try and punch the other man in the face. His breathing was becoming increasingly ragged, and he could feel the blood flow to his head starting to restrict. Suddenly, the grip on his throat lessened, and the nurse started to slump to the ground.

Arthur, choking slightly, pushed the arm away, letting the projection crash. He blinked his watering eyes. Chandra was standing, a frightened look on her face, clutching a lamp.

He looked at her, and swallowed. "Thank you."

"Please help me," she whispered. "Please."

Arthur nodded. "Of course I will. Come with me."


	62. Chapter 62

**Hi – just a quick heads up. I'm away for the next week, so there will be a brief hiatus on this fic. Thank you so much for reading, and it will continue soon! **

**Your reading and reviews are always appreciated!**


	63. Chapter 63

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Fran shivered. The warehouse was cold, and she could feel the damp. Blinking, she turned. "Eames?"

She heard a slight groan. Pushing her way through the built up piles of junk, she trusted her instincts.

"Eames," she said, her voice sounding more confident. "I will find you, ok?"

* * *

"Where are we going?" Chandra asked. She had got off the bed, and Arthur noticed that she looked unsteady. He offered her his arm, which she grasped, gratefully. She clung to him, and Arthur winced from the pressure of her hand.

"Somewhere safe," he said, hoping his voice was reassuring. Letting her steady herself, he began to open the door. Poking his head out, he looked down the corridor. "OK, lets go."

* * *

Ariadne waited. The Extractor stood next to her, his body as tense as a coiled spring. "We need to wait."

"Cobb," Ariadne protested, "I designed this layout. There are plenty of places we can hide, where the projections won't find us."

Cobb shook his head, impatiently. "Its not the projections. Its Lloyd. He's unpredictable." He swallowed, then paused. "You said the office was on the second floor? Whats the quickest way to get down there?"

Ariadne licked her bottom lip. "By taking the back stairwell. There's a connecting corridor."

Cobb nodded. "Lets go."

* * *

Fran pushed aside a chair, and shoved a box out of the way. She stumbled, and put one arm out to steady her balance. As she did so, she realised what she'd pushed against was a leg. Catching her breath, she knelt down.

"Eames?"

Putting both hands out, she reached forward and touched his chest. He barely stirred. She swallowed, and leaned down.

"You're in a dream, within a dream," she whispered. "He sedated you, and now you're trapped in here. There's only one way I can get you out."

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to have to go further in." She stroked his face. Suddenly, the Forger began to move. She swallowed, and reached for his hand, curling her fingers around it.

"Eames?"

His mouth opened, and she leaned closer. "Can you hear me?"

* * *

Arthur gently led Chandra down the corridor. She kept clutching at him, nervously. He paused, looking for a way out. "Stay close," he said quietly. She nodded.

He found a door, and tugged at it. It opened easily. "OK," he said, turning, "we need to-"

He blinked.

Chandra had vanished. The Point Man looked down the corridor, confusion growing on his face. He too a few steps, and realised nothing was in front except a stretch of empty corridor.

"But that's-" he shook his head. "She was right-"

"She was right where?"

Arthur turned. Chandra was standing on the other side, her arm gripped by a nurse. Arthur swallowed. "Let her go."

"No chance," the nurse said, through gritted teeth. "She's not supposed to be out of confinement. She's going straight back."

"Leave her alone," Arthur, said, harshly. "I mean-"

Suddenly, a heavy object was swung to the side of his head, and the Point Man san down into darkness.

* * *

Cobb and Ariadne hurried down the corridor. He turned to face her. "Which way?"

"Its just ahead!" The Architect called. As the door loomed, Cobb felt his breath catch. He stopped, and put his hand on the handle. "One moment."

He turned the doorhandle, and walked in. The office was empty. He turned. "Ariadne!"

Suddenly, he froze. Something was pressing against the nape of his neck.

"I wouldn't move," a cold voice said. "Not unless you want this through your neck."

Cobb swallowed. "Lloyd."

"Who else?" the voice sneered. "This is my office."

The Extractor didn't flinch. "Its over Lloyd. We know. We know what happened."

"No, you don't." As the object pulled away, Cobb turned to face the other man. Rafe's eyes were narrowed. Looking at his hands, he saw he was holding a knife. Sharpened and ready. The Extractor swallowed.

"Start walking," he said, his voice glacial. "And if you try anything, I will put this right through you."

Cobb took a deep breath. If he died in this dream, he knew, he wouldn't be able to go back.

"OK," he said quietly. "I'm walking."

Rafe nodded. "Good."

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes. He was lying under a harsh light, and as he turned, realised he was strapped down. He swallowed, his throat scratchy.

He turned his head, and his eyes widened in shock. Cobb was lying on a bed next to him, also strapped.

"Dom?" He whispered.

The Extractor blinked. "Hmmm?"

"Dom, we're in danger," The Point Man hissed. "We're currently." He stopped. A dark shadow was over him. He blinked.

Rafe Lloyd stood, smiling coldly. In his hand, he was holding a knife.

"OK," he said, gently. "Which one of you is first?"

Arthur struggled. "Where's Ariadne?" He demanded, harshly.

The killer smirked, his face twisting. He leaned down, and whispered to the Point Man.

"Take a guess."


	64. Chapter 64

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur swallowed. A feeling of sickening dread was creeping through his body, making his limbs feel weak. He tried to focus on Rafe, whose eyes, he noticed, were as cold and calculating as a viper. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the air was ripped by a muffled scream.

He turned, jerking against his restraints. Another man – a tall, blonde man, who he recognised from the bar – was standing next to Cobb. The Extractor had been gagged, and his tormentor was standing over him, also with a knife. Arthur sucked his breath in as the blade flashed, then was dragged, tantalisingly, over Cobb's bicep.

A wail of pain pierced the air. Arthur turned, suddenly fearing he would vomit. Death – die in a dream, they'd wake up. But pain was in the mind. And, he realised, with an increased feeling of horror, they were in Cobb's mind. The more he was tortured, the more the dream would start to warp.

"Enough," Rafe snapped. "Do you have to be so heavy handed? It should be a light, delicate touch. For example-" he stood, surveying Arthur's torso as though it were prime steak – "think about where you make the incision. Place the knife somewhere hollow, and press. Gently."

He waved the knife over Arthur. Suddenly, the Point Man felt a rush of rage. He glared at Rafe, and spat at him. A gesture of impotence, he realised with shock.

The other man didn't even blink. Pulling out a handkerchief, he calmly wiped his face, then leaned closer to Arthur.

"Childish," he whispered, his tongue practically tickling Arthur's ear, causing him to shudder. "Very childish. Spitting? How…unhygienic."

Arthur swallowed. The psychopath's face was completely blank. He was no psychotic, Arthur knew. Rafe Lloyd was clever, controlling, and completely in control of his actions. He'd felt no more compassion for his victims than a bug he might have stepped on. He leaned over again, and put his hand on Arthur's knee. The Point Man shivered with disgust.

"Hey, Bambi," Rafe said, his tone suggestive. "Lets just dispatch this one, and the others, and then we can have some fun."

Arthur nearly choked. "Forget it."

"No, I won't." Rafe looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "You need to help me."

"What?"

"You asked where the girl was…"

Arthur swallowed. "Ariadne. What have you done with her?"

Rafe looked at him. "She's in a safe place. For now."

Another gasp of agony pierced the air. Arthur shuddered. Rafe turned.

"Ryan!" He snarled. "For Fuck's sake, man, do you have to do everything I don't ask?"

* * *

Ariadne put her hand out, and felt something rough, and cold. She shivered at the touch. Suddenly, warm fingers touched her arm, and she nearly screamed.

"I'm sorry," a pale voice apologised. "I'm sorry."

The Architect swallowed, and blinked. "Its OK. I can't see you."

"He never lets anyone see anything," the voice responded. "He never lets you see, until its too late."

Ariadne felt a small spasm of fear. "Who is this?"

"Chandra," the voice said, devoid of emotion. Ariadne's breath caught in her throat. "Chandra?" She whispered. "You were-"

"I was his victim," she said softly. "Do you know what he did to me?"

Ariadne shuddered, then spoke. "Chandra," she said softly, "we have to get out of here. I know this place, I can find a way."

"No."

"No?"

Chandra's voice was barely audible. "You'll never get out. He'll send him to kill you."

* * *

"Just let him go," Arthur said, struggling against the restraints. "Let him go, Lloyd. You're just torturing him for the pleasure of it."

"Absolutely," Rafe said, smoothly. "Leave him." Arthur winced as he heard the Extractor's ragged gasps. "Your turn." He stood, holding the knife above Arthur, his eyes glittering. Arthur swallowed, then suddenly saw the blade flash towards him. Towards his face.

"You know, you have one of the most perfect faces I've ever seen," Rafe mused. "Its so…symmetrical. So handsome. But you look like a frightened little boy right now. Are you going to start crying for your mother?"

Arthur tightened his lips. _Its only a dream, _he reminded himself. He felt the cold metal slide across his cheek, and shivered.

"Listen," Rafe said, softly. "This isn't fun. You know what would be fun? Killing her. Watching her suffer. She'd cry. She'd beg. And you can watch."

Arthur swallowed. "You mean…she's not dead?"

"I said she was somewhere safe," Rafe said. "Don't you trust me?"

"Trust you?" Arthur looked at him. "You're a psychopathic monster. You killed two women, and another man."

Rafe shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a monster. But what about you? Why did you bring her to me?"

Arthur's eyes widened in shock. "Excuse me?"

"How did she know about me? Because you led her to me." Rafe looked at him, mockingly. "You must have known, deep down, I'd want to kill her."

Arthur listened, his head reeling with shock. He was right. He'd known how dangerous the job was, known that they were dealing with a killer, yet he'd still allowed Ariadne to join them. He'd promised to protect her…and if he hadn't, he guessed she wouldn't have joined them.

"Come on, pretty boy," Rafe said, coldly. "Lets go and find her, shall we?"

* * *

Ariadne slouched against the wall. "Are you ok?" Chandra asked.

"There has to be a way out. I des-" she stopped, biting her lip. Letting the projection know it was a dream meant she could turn on her. She swallowed. "Lets find a light, shall, we?"

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light. She blinked, painfully. They were in a room of whitewashed brick, with two surgical beds inside. She looked around. Standing in front of her was a young woman, whose pale skin and haunted expression made her feel uncomfortable.

"Look, the lights on," she whispered. "You just take my arm, and we walk-"

"Sorry, ladies," said a male voice. She looked over, her eyes widening. Rafe was walking in, Arthur in front of him. Except Arthur had his arm held in a vice like grip, and a knife held to his neck.

"Arthur?" She asked, timidly.

"Answer her," Rafe snapped.

"Ari," Arthur breathed. "We'll get out of here, I promise." She nodded. Chandra turned away, and hurried to a corner.

"Don't do that, honey!" Rafe called. "I want you to watch!" He clenched Arthur's arm. "And this is where the fun begins!"

Arthur clenched his jaw. "Don't you dare, Lloyd. Touch her, I'll kill you myself."

Rafe lessened his grip, and raised an eyebrow at Arthur. "Not how I work." He turned to face the Point Man. "You see, I never killed anyone."

Arthur looked at him. "Liar." His voice was very soft.

"No. Truth." Rafe smiled. "I'm not going to kill her, Arthur. Just turn and look at her. Now imagine that little slut and all the times she's teased and taunted you. Now, imagine what she'll look like when you stick that knife into her neck. Imagine how she'll scream. That'll be your revenge, Arthur. Revenge for all the times you've thought she thought you were cold, and humourless."

Arthur blinked. Ariadne's jaw was dropping. "Arthur?" she asked, timidly.

Arthur looked at Rafe, his face whitening. "Not true," he whispered, hoarsely.

"Really?" Rafe looked at him. "You're the liar. You lie to yourself. You try and pretend you don't want to screw her. You try and pretend you don't want to dominate her, show her who's in charge. Well, here's your chance. I don't want to kill her Arthur."

"What do you want?" Arthur asked, his voice a whisper. Rafe smiled, coldly.

"I want you to give in to whats buried inside. I want to watch you kill her."


	65. Chapter 65

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur swallowed, and looked at Ariadne. Her face was visibly paler.

"Go on." Rafe's voice was soft, insidious. "You know you want to do this. You can have her. She won't say no."

Arthur closed his eyes.

* * *

He was sitting in the lobby of a hotel. Expensive, ultra modern. Wearing an dark suit, he was catching looks from the projections. Next to him, in a demure soft grey suit, her hair pinned up, sat the Architect.

"They're looking at us," she whispered, nervously.

Arthur flexed his hands. "They're looking for the dreamer. In this case, me."

She swallowed, her face twitching. Arthur turned and looked at her, and suddenly felt a rush of dominance take over. He tried to control his breathing. He'd just been screamed at by Cobb, humiliated in front of the team. Accused of not doing his job properly. Yet, he thought with a feeling of anger, Cobb had taken them into something that could be the death of them.

He looked at Ariadne. He'd timed it perfectly, and she was looking at him. Her large brown eyes caught his, and he made a decision.

"Quick," he said, his voice soft, "give me a kiss."

She looked taken aback, but still leaned forward, willingly. He pecked her on the lips, and as they drew apart, he noticed the look of uncertainty on her face was now eclipsed by delight.

She opened her eyes, and blinked. "They're still looking at us."

"Oh, well," the Point Man shrugged, dismissively. "It was worth a shot."

She looked surprised, and pleased. He turned, feeling a sudden rush of power. Then the guilt begin to trip in. He'd just taken what he wanted, demanded it, grabbed it.

He'd seen the way she'd looked at him the minute she'd entered the Warehouse. Seen the look of surprise that had turned to admiration. He'd looked at her, noticed how she'd been studying him.

He'd felt a sense of power. He'd swallowed. Power. Over her. He shook slightly.

* * *

"Fran?"

She blinked. Eames was re-gaining consciousness. She brushed his face. "I'm here."

"Where are we?"

"We're in-" she swallowed. "You were injected. Again." She looked at the Forger. "You've been sent to a prison of your own mind. I used the PASIV and came to find you."

"Second time you've come to save me," Eames said, gently. He reached up and touched her cheek. "Thank you."

She caught his hand, and grasped it. "Come on, we have to get out of here. Now."

"No, no you don't."

The psychiatrist turned. Her eyes widened with horror. Michael Jensen was standing behind her, holding what looked like a large, sharp knife.

"No one gets away," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "No-one ever escapes from him!"

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes. Rafe was looking at him, his eyes boring into his skin. Arthur shivered. Ariadne was standing in front of him, her face growing increasingly pale.

"Arthur." It came out as a whisper. "I'm not a projection. I'm real."

Arthur looked at her. "I know you're real. And I know you've teased and taunted me since the day we met." He paused, letting the words sink in, letting the look of shock flicker across her face.

Rafe smiled, smugly. "That's it, Arthur. Tell her how you really feel."

Arthur looked at him, his eyebrows raised. "You want me to be honest?"

The psychopath grinned at him, showing white teeth. "Of course. Arthur – I never intended to kill this little bitch. You've wanted to do it yourself, many times. You know you have. You know you do."

"Arthur," Ariadne choked out. "Arthur, I never meant to-"

"Well, you did," Arthur said, his voice taking on a bitter, sour tone. He glared at the Architect. "I remember the first day you walked into the Warehouse, tight top and jeans, showing everything off. I remember how you looked at me, kept on taunting me with your eyes."

She looked at him, her face showing shock. "Arthur, I didn't mean-"

"Women like you never do," the Point Man snarled. "You never mean to hurt, you never mean to tease. But you do. What did you think when you looked at me – oh, he looks so straight laced and boring, he doesn't have feelings, he's a robot? Well, I do, and I'm sick and tired of you never acknowledging them! You wind me up, you tease me!"

"Arthur, please-"

"No, I don't," he snapped. "I don't please. Not you. Not anyone. Here we are, you, me. Time for me to show you how I really feel!"

He walked towards her, blocking her against the wall. Rafe looked on, a smile of satisfaction snaking across his face.

"Hey Ryan!" He shouted. "Get over here! You want to watch this! Hand him the stuff!"

Arthur blinked as Ryan lumbered slowly into view. He was looking uncertain.

"Hey man," he said to Rafe, "I left the other guy upstairs, what do I-"

"Forget him," Rafe snapped. "Its this guy I'm more interested in." He looked at Arthur, his face twisting, cruelly. "Give it to him."

Ryan held out a long thick coil of rope. The Point Man took it. He looked at Ryan, smirking. "Thanks."

"OK, what are you waiting for?" Rafe looked at Arthur. "Tie her up. Make sure its tight."

Arthur walked over to Ariadne. "Put your hands out."

Her eyes were starting to shine with tears. "Arthur, you don't want-"

"Shut up!" he snarled, the roughness of his voice making her wince. "Just shut up! I am so sick of you and your behaviour! You're going to do exactly as I say, and if you don't-"

She looked at him, her eyes veiled with tears.

"I'll hurt you. I promise that."

Rafe grinned. "That's the spirit."

Arthur looked at him. "It makes your day when someone gets hurt, doesn't it Rafe?"

The other man looked at him. "Damn straight."

"You enjoy watching it?"

"Yep." The killer's face was dispassionate. "I enjoy watching people realise their true selves, Arthur. You're about to discover yours. Go for it. Make her scream!"

Arthur looked at the Architect. Tears were streaming down her face, and she looked at him as though he were a stranger. "Arthur, please-"

The Point Man turned to the killer. "I don't need to hurt her to discover my true self, Lloyd." Reaching for the waist of his suit, he pulled out a gun, and pointed it at the other man's forehead.

"I know who I am. The question is – will you still like me when I shoot you?"


	66. Chapter 66

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Go ahead." Rafe's voice was soft. Arthur met his gaze, not blinking.

"Kill me if you want to, Arthur." The other man was grinning at him. "It will fit your perverted sense of righteousness. But think about this – you kill me, it will prove one thing."

"Which is?"

"That you and I are the same." Rafe looked at him, his face growing colder. "You want to believe that you';ll never take the woman standing next to you by force, but it's a lie. You want to take her out, make her feel good – but why do you want to do that, Arthur? So you can have sex. So she can be lulled into thinking that you're a nice guy, a gentleman, but you're still a man. A man with needs and desires. And you want her to fulfil those desires. Don't you?"

Arthur looked at him. "You-"

"Don't try and blame me for your own feelings of inadequacy, Arthur." Rafe's eyes were like ice. "Everytime you look at her, you're imagining her naked, spread out, only for you. You can't bear to think of the other guys she's been with. You'll never ask if she's a virgin. Because you don't want to know. You want to think of her being pure, untouched, lying there, only for you. For you to come and take her. Rip her apart. Right?"

Arthur's jaw quivered, and he pointed the gun directly at Rafe's forehead. "I'm warning you that-"

"I wouldn't," Rafe said, harshly. "If you really were that determined to kill me, you'd have done it already. I've got something you want, and you're not going to kill me until you know what it is." He paused. "So, talk to me, pretty boy. What is it?"

"Information," Arthur said, simply. "What did you do to Chandra Caddick?"

Rafe smirked, and turned away. "I did to her exactly what I wanted." He looked at Arthur. "I convinced her brother to kill her."

Arthur swallowed. "So you-"

"Yeah, that's right. I never killed anybody." Rafe looked at him. "But her brother was a nice guy, and is it my fault she discovered us? Together?"

Arthur looked at him. "You set them up."

"No!" Rafe looked offended. "I met her because she worked in my lab. She was nothing special – a wallflower." He smiled, cruelly. "Just your type, Art. No-one can upstage you, can they?"

Arthur nearly spat with fury, but kept it inside. "Go on."

"I saw her being picked up by her brother," Rafe continued. "And I knew him. We were in college together. Along with my dear ex-wife, and my sister-in-law. But…Anna was only ever a distraction. Sweet girl, I liked her."

"When she was dead?" Arthur;s fury was beginning to mount. "Was that it?"

"She didn't die. She left me." Rafe looked at him, smugly. "Really."

"But she is dead, right?" Arthur said, his jaw tightening.

"Maybe."

"Tell me the truth!"

"I'll tell you some of it." Rafe looked at him. "But first, you do something for me."

"What?" Arthur swallowed, looking at Rafe with undisguised hatred. "What do you want me to do?"

"Kiss her," Rafe said, gesturing at Ariadne. "kiss her, make her feel it. Then you might start to feel as though you're in charge."

Arthur swallowed. "I am in charge. Of myself."

"You want to be in charge of her."

"If you say another word," Arthur said, lifting the gun, "I swear I will-"

Suddenly, the room tilted, and they started to slide. Rafe looked slightly stunned. "What was that?" he demanded.

Arthur swallowed. "Its nothing, Rafe. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Rafe smiled. "Fine. I want you to-"

The room tilted again. Arthur swallowed. "Cobb," he muttered. Rafe was falling, and had smacked into the floor.

"No," he muttered, getting up, "you're going to-"

The room tilted again. Arthur swallowed. If Cobb was being tortured, he guessed, their time was running out rapidly.

He blinked. Rafe was on his feet, and before Arthur could stop him, he'd turned, and headed for the door.

Arthur moved after him, but the door banged shut, and suddenly, he heard a deadlock pulled.

"He's locked us in," he said, to Ariadne. Fear and panic where evident in her eyes. "Whats going to happen?" She asked. "Cobb-"

"And Eames, and Fran," Arthur said, swallowing. "We have to get out of here."

"Not yet," Ariadne looked at him.

"What?" Arthur looked at her. "Ari, we're trapped in the mind of a psychopath – literally. What is it?"

"What happened to you, Arthur?" Ariadne looked at him. "Because I'm not helping you until you tell me."


	67. Chapter 67

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur blinked. "Ari, I don't have time for-" he stopped. She was standing in front of him, blocking his path. "Ari, seriously-"

"I am serious." She looked at him. "We've been going deeper and deeper into Lloyd. But we're also going deeper into you. What is it, Arthur? Why are you letting him affect you so badly?"

"Ariadne. Rafe Lloyd is a murderer and a rapist. Now, will you let me-"

"We have no evidence he raped her," Ariadne insisted, her cheeks growing flushed. "What is it, Arthur? What is it about this case that has you so rattled?"

"You don't want to know." Arthur was starting to glare at her. "Look, I need to find him-"

"And I need to find the truth!" Ariadne exploded. "You're keeping something from all of us! Something that has got the potential for this case to unravel! What do you not want people to find out?"

"OK," Arthur said, coldly, "you really want to know the truth?"

She nodded. "I do."

"I was accused and charged of raping somebody when I was at Yale. There. You know. Now, can I go and find Lloyd before he kills Cobb?"

* * *

Cobb shifted. The pain he was experiencing was lessening to a dull throb. He moved, trying to find a place to rest his head.

"Feeling better?"

Cobb looked up. Rafe Lloyd was standing over him.

"If you're going to kill me," Cobb said, dully, "you need to be aware of-"

"Look, you misjudge me. That hurts." Rafe looked at him. "I don't kill people. I get other people to dirty their hands instead." He smiled. "Your friend Arthur is dirtying his, right now."

* * *

"You-" Ariadne swallowed. Her mouth was dry. "But, Arthur, you're-"

"A perfect gentleman?" He looked at her. "Ariadne, I know. But, it happened. I was accused. And accusations tend to stick."

"What happened?" She moved closer to him, and sat on the floor.

Arthur stayed standing, looking straight ahead. "I was in my senior year. She was in the same year, different major. We met at a party."

Ariadne nodded silently.

"I liked her. I thought she was funny, clever, interesting. Someone I could actually have a conversation with." He smiled wryly. "You'd be amazed at how many girls go to Yale and still think their looks are the most important thing."

She looked at him. "What happened?"

"We went on a couple of dates. Dinner, just that. At no point did I think I would just take her for sex – it would feel wrong. But then, we went on a third date, and –"

He stopped. Ariadne looked at him. "Please, go on."

"It was another party. I'd had a couple of beers, she'd had wine. We were both a little bit drunk. I saw her at the party with a friend of mine, being friendly. It made me feel – jealous. That I wasn't good enough for her. It annoyed me, and I approached them."

"What happened?"

"She told me to stop it, that I didn't own her. I accepted that, and walked away. I'd had a little too much to drink, so decided to leave. As I left, she came after me."

"Then what?" Ariadne felt a gnawing fear in her gut.

"She wanted to apologise. Told me that she was sorry, it was a mistake, and that she wanted to make it up for me. I was feeling annoyed, and happy to let her. She kissed me. I responded. Then I suggested, lets go back to my place."

Ariadne was silent. Arthur continued.

"We got there, she kissed me, I kissed back. She practically got me on the bed, and I wasn't going to refuse. I asked her if this was ok, she told me not to be so damn prudish.

"We undressed, she was in my bed. I was lying there, next to this lovely woman who wanted me. She asked me if I was impotent, if that was why I'd never tried it before with her. I was slightly drunk, and its not an excuse, but suddenly, I felt I had something to prove."

Ariadne bit her lip. "So you-"

"Had sex? Yes." He looked at her. "We did. And at the end, she kissed me, and told me that it meant a great deal. It had meant a lot to me – I liked her. Really liked her."

"But what happened?"

"She disappeared for a couple of days. I tried calling, no response. Then, I got a letter from the Dean. It stated that she had accused me of date raping her."

"Arthur, that's-"

"Humiliating? Yes. But it happened. I had to go to a hearing – a room full of college students and professors, sitting there in judgement. She was there, looking hurt and frightened. She told them her version. That I'd got her drunk and manipulated her into sex, calling her frigid and accusing her of not wanting me. That I'd held her down and bitten her."

"What-"

"They believed her," Arthur said, bitterly. "They looked at her, and then they looked at me. A young woman who had never caused any trouble, accusing a guy of rape – obviously, it was true. I was told that I could finish out the year, but I had to take my finals in isolation. After I finished, I left. She put forward an accusation for reasons I will never, ever understand."

"Then what happened?"

"I did some temporary work, then I met Dom. He hired me as the Point Man."

"But, is this why you-"

"Don't do relationships?" Arthur looked at her. "Ari, its why I keep people at arm's length, full stop. Until…"

Suddenly, the door banged open. Arthur blinked. Two large men entered, both in nurse's uniforms.

"Time's up," one of them said, tonelessly. "Time for treatment!"

"Treatment?" Ariadne said, puzzled.

"Time to see the doctor!" One of the goons grinned.

Ariadne looked at Arthur. His jaw was set.

"Sure we'll see him. Take us there."


	68. Chapter 68

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Cobb shivered. A stinging pain in his chest was starting to subside. He blinked, and opened his eyes.

Harsh lights penetrated his eyes. Wincing, he closed them again.

"Hey," said a soft voice. "Wake up."

The Extractor blinked. "Huh?"

"Your friends are coming down. I'm sure they'll enjoy the show."

Cobb choked slightly. "Don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Don't hurt them."

Rafe's mouth twitched. "I think they'll do that to themselves."

* * *

Arthur and Ariadne walked behind the two nurses. The air in the corridor was cold, and Ariadne shivered. Arthur reached for her hand, and laced his fingers through it.

"I'm here," he whispered.

She squeezed his fingers, gratefully. The secrets he'd disclosed had seemed to make them grow closer. She had swallowed down her shock, vowing that she would talk to him when they left the dream.

They reached the room. The nurses stopped. "He's waiting for you," one said, ominously.

Arthur nodded. "Then let's see him."

* * *

Fran stood up. Her pulse was racing.

"We're in your head, Eames," she said slowly. "So why is Jensen in here…?"

She blinked. The other man was approaching her, holding the knife almost directly at her chest.

"You're just a projection," she said, softly. "The real Jensen is currently in prison. In the psych ward. The reason I'm seeing you is because of guilt. Eames still feels guilty over what happened to you."

He approached her, grinning.

Swallowing, she put her hand to her side.

* * *

"Well, look who it is." Rafe smirked as Arthur and Ariadne entered. "Cute couple." His eyes glittered. "Not for much longer."

Arthur glared at him. "I swear, in another minute, I will ki-"

"Save it, Bambi," Rafe said, carelessly. "You had your opportunity. And failed each time. You won't kill me, I'm too valuable for that."

Arthur swallowed. "Whatever you say."

"And what I say goes." Rafe looked at him. "Take a seat, sweetheart."

Arthur sat down.

"Not you. Her."

Arthur tightened his grip on Ariadne's fingers. "No," he said.

"No?"

"She's not doing it. Do it to me."

Rafe looked at him. "Are you sure? You're prettier than her."

Arthur got up, and walked towards the older man. "If you come out with another crack like that, I swear-"

Rafe raised his knife, and pointed it directly at Arthur's face. The Point Man grabbed his wrist, twisting it painfully. The other man gasped, and his grip on the knife began to lessen. Arthur kept twisting.

"Does this hurt?" He said, smiling coldly. "I hope it does. I hope it hurts a lot."

"Careful, Arthur," Rafe's voice was dangerous. "Your boss is right over there. Are you showing off for him? Or for her? Do you ever do anything because you want to, or is only to impress other people? You're pathetic."

Arthur's fist flew out, and punched the older man in the jaw. He staggered back slightly, and Arthur seized his chance. Grabbing the other man's arm, he twisted it behind his back, and then forced him onto his knees. Pulling out his gun, he pointed it directly at Rafe's temple.

"Tell me what you know," Arthur said, his voice glacial. "Or I will kill you. And if you die here-" he paused – "you drop into limbo."

Ariadne gasped. "Arthur, don't-"

"Limbo?" Rafe's voice held a confused note. He tried to twist round to look at Arthur. "What do you mean, limbo?"

"Would you believe me," Arthur said calmly, "if I told you that you are actually asleep? We're all currently back at your apartment, deep in slumber. This isn't real, Rafe. None of it. You can hurt me, hurt us all – but we're all going to wake up. And when we do, we'll all have seen what a madman you are. You can't get away with this. You're not going to get away with it."

Cobb groaned, softly. Arthur swallowed. "Hang on in there, Dom," he called, softly.

"So its not real…" Rafe paused, considering. "So, how do you expect me to tell you anything? You kill me, I drop into limbo. I kill you, you drop into limbo, bambi."

"No ,you see Rafe," Arthur said, smiling, "killing you would be the end. But pain is in the mind. Let me demonstrate."

He aimed the gun and fired. Rafe screamed, a shrill sound that made the Architect shudder.

"I didn't touch you," Arthur said, his voice cold. "I fired into the floor. What's wrong Rafe, can't bear the thought of pain? Can't bear the thought of someone doing to you what you did to them? You son of a bitch!"

"Don't kill me," Rafe almost whined. "Please."

Arthur pressed the gun to the back of his head. "Tell me everything you know. Now!"

"I will."


	69. Chapter 69

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"You want to know everything?" There was a slight undertone of amusement in Rafe's voice, that nearly made the Point Man spit with anger. He kept his arm straight, aiming the gun for the back of the psychopath's head.

"Yes. Tell me everything."

"OK." Rafe shrugged. "Here's the story. I met Ryan a few years ago. College. I liked him, he liked me. We started seeing each other, casually."

Arthur swallowed. "Weren't you married at one point?"

"Yes. I knew I was bisexual. She couldn't accept it. Shame, she was a sweet girl."

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. She left me."

"Its just that Fran thinks-" Arthur swallowed. "Fran was your sister in law, right?"

"Yes. Shame, I wanted to fuck her myself. But…" Rafe smiled, mockingly. "Fran is also a shrink. And I hate her."

"Of course you do," Arthur said, calmly. "Because she sees right through you, Rafe."

"Yes. In the same way she sees through you."

Arthur stayed calm. "Really?"

"Yes, Arthur. Fran sees right through you. So do I. I see the bitterness and resentment and sense of failure that oozes out of your every pore. You're threatening to kill a guy in a dream. Really big, that. You want to screw that little piece over there to convince yourself you actually feel something. You can't handle life, Arthur. That's why you're only comfortable here…in dreams."

Arthur swallowed. "This isn't about me, Lloyd. Its about you."

"No, it isn't." Rafe began to stand up, and turned and faced him. "Its about you as well. I think we've already established the fact you have a dark side. When are you going to let it out?"

* * *

Fran swallowed. Jensen was approaching.

"Don't try anything," she said, calmly. "Or I will kill you."

He looked at her, his eyes shadowed. "That's what he said to me."

"I know he did," she said softly. "I know he did, Mike. He said the same to me. That night. I knew he and Ryan were planning to kill Elaine. That's why I tipped her off, told her to leave. The only thing that stopped them from killing me was the fact that it would look too obvious. The wife dies, and so does the sister in law. But Chandra…it wasn't obvious."

"I liked her," Mike's voice was sorrowful.

"I know you did."

* * *

"Tell me what happened," Arthur said, his voice insistent. "Tell me what happened now."

"Chandra Caddick found out about myself and her brother," Rafe said, coolly. "She followed us one night, to the bar.

"I didn't even realise she was there. But she was watching, and saw us leave. She decided to follow us in her own car. We got back to my place."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And then?"

"Sex, Arthur. Hot, sweaty, athletic sex. Trust me, a cold fish like you wouldn't even be able to imagine it." Rafe smirked and Arthur's hand moved on to the trigger. "But then…she interrupted us."

* * *

"He told me he killed her," Mike said, his voice filled with pain. "And he told me he'd kill me."

"So what did you do?" Fran asked gently.

"I did what he said…I told the police it was me."

* * *

"She just walked in. I was on top of him. And she couldn't handle it. How was I to know that they were Catholic? She started crying and screaming, that we were going to hell. I pulled out, and went over to her."

"What did you do?"

"I punched her." Rafe looked at him. "Yeah, I know. But it was all I could do. She just wouldn't shut up. So I hit her, again."

"Only this time," Arthur said, slowly, "it wasn't with your fist."

"Yes." Rafe looked at him. "It was with my fist."

"And what happened?"

"She staggered. I told Ryan to calm down, we'd deal with it later. He was panicking. He didn't want his little sister running home and telling Mommy."

"And what did you do?"

"I never believe in passing up an opportunity, Arthur. She was nearly unconscious. I was on heat. So I fucked her."

Arthur looked at the other man, intense loathing welling up inside him. "A young woman was lying there unconscious…and you –" he shuddered. "How could you?"

"It was easy. I was rock hard." Rafe looked at him. "She wasn't' going to struggle. I just got up, and walked away."

"And then what?"

"Ryan…was in a state. He didn't know what to do." Rafe looked at Arthur. "So I suggested that we make things easier for us. I told him to kill her."

Arthur looked at Rafe. "He killed his own sister." He looked at the psychopath, and suddenly he began to realise. "Of course he killed her. Because you threatened…to kill him."

Rafe smiled, smugly. "Correct, Arthur.


	70. Chapter 70

Apologies for the break and hiatus. I've been very busy at work and am going away for two weeks. I would like to thank everyone who has been reading and following these fics – they will get completed, look out for updates at the end of the month!


	71. Chapter 71

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"Tell me everything."

"I liked her."

"I know you did, Mike." Fran exhaled. Her patience would pay off, she knew. She looked at the sad, shuffling figure in front of her. "So did he. But what happened?"

Mike swallowed. "I'm not crazy, Im just-"

"I know," she said, soothingly. "Talk to me."

Jensen took a deep, shuddering breath. "I found them. I found him, and them."

* * *

Arthur kept the gun raised, but started to walk. Turning, he looked directly at Rafe. The ice blue gaze didn't waver. He swallowed, wondering how he could get the killer to confess.

"Rafe," Arthur said, trying to keep his voice calm. "talk to me. Tell me what you achieved. How did you get Ryan to kill his own sister?"

Rafe shrugged. "Not telling."

"Why not?" Arthur looked at him. "I'm puzzled. You've got a captive audience, here. Am I going to tell anyone?"

"No, you're not." Rafe said, smiling. "You won't tell anyone. Because I promise – I'll kill you first."

"OK," Arthur took a deep breath. "Tell me everything Rafe. Then kill me. Your secret will be safe, and trust me, you'll feel better. Better for sharing your glory."

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "If you insist, Arthur. I'll tell you everything that happened." He looked at Ariadne and grinned, fiendishly. "You know, you really remind me of her. Same proportions. I do wonder what your pretty little head would look like if it was severed at the throat."

Arthur pressed the gun into Rafe's chest. "If you make one more comment-"

"Oh, save it," Rafe glared. "I'll tell you. It was ridiculously simple. I picked her up, and dragged her to my car. I told Ryan to come with me, bringing the rope, and a knife."

Arthur swallowed. "Where did you drive to?"

"The lake."

Arthur's grip tightened. "The lake. Do you mean...?"

"Yes, Arthur. Chandra Caddick is at the bottom of Lake Boynton. That's one place the police never looked. And do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because there was no evidence at the lake." Rafe looked at Arthur. "Ryan pulled her out of the car. Then he wrapped her in a few dust sheets, tied a few rocks to it, and-"

"Threw her to the bottom of the river," Arthur finished. "She wasn't dead first-"

"No."

Arthur felt a cold chill creep through him. The thought of a young woman dying in the freezing cold water, alone, and terrified, made him feel sick. He swallowed the bile that was rising to the back of his throat. "That's what you did to Fran's sister."

"Yes." Rafe looked at Arthur.

"Why?"

"Because she cramped my style." Rafe shrugged. He looked at Arthur. "In the same way that she's going to cramp yours." His eyes narrowed as he turned to Ariadne.

"I'm warning you-"

"Oh, stop it. You know its true. You know women look at you. You know that men look at you. You like it." Rafe's voice was insistent. "You don't want a little wallflower like her cramping you, Arthur. You'll never be happy. And that will drive you-"

"Insane?" Arthur looked at him. "Trust me, it won't. Because I feel something that you're not capable of."

"And that is...?"

"Love."

* * *

"I saw what they did," Mike said, sorrowfully. "I wrapped her in the cloth, and I put her in the lake. I'm sorry."

Fran creased her brow. "You put Chandra in the lake?"

"No." Mike looked at her. "I put Alys in the lake."

Fran's breath caught in her throat. "My sister?"

"Yes." Jensen looked at her. "I didn't want to...I'm sorry..."

Putting the knife to his throat, he turned away. She lunged for him, but he crashed to the floor, blood fanning out in a crimson wave. Feeling horrified, Fran turned to Eames.

"Wake up!" She said, beginning to feel a wave of anxiety. "Wake up!"

* * *

"Love?" Rafe twisted his face in disgust. "You're such a joke, you know that?"

"No, I'm not the joke," Arthur said calmly. "You are." He raised the gun, causing Rafe's eyes to widen. Suddenly, the killer lunged for him, knocking him off guard. Arthur twisted, trying not to let Rafe grab the gun, or at his face.

"Ari!" He shouted at the petrified Architect. "Run!"

She seemed frozen. Arthur bit back his rising fear and anger as the older man ran his fingers down his chest. "Oh, tell her to go. We're going to have fun..."

Arthur raised the gun, and put his finger firmly on the trigger. He pointed it at Rafe, only for the other man to grab his forearms and push them up as he fired.

Arthur heard a soft moan, and the sound of a light object collapsing on the floor. Rafe stood up, smirking.

"Well, Arthur," he said, coolly surveying the collapsed Architect. "I don't think you really loved her, after all."


	72. Chapter 72

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur turned, his heart pounding. Ariadne lay crumpled on the floor, moaning softly.

"Ari..." he whispered. Suddenly, he heard a clicking noise. In his shock, he'd dropped the gun, and suddenly had the sickening realisation that Rafe was pressing it to his temple.

"Sorry about that," Rafe murmured, his voice barely perceptible. "But she was cramping my style, Arthur." He leaned forward and licked Arthur's neck, causing the Point Man to shudder with revulsion. He put his hand on Arthur's shoulder and pushed him forward slightly. "Walk."

Arthur did so, keeping his breathing steady. As he stood next to the Architect, he anxiously scanned her body, looking for signs.

He saw the injury. A bleeding wound was visible on her upper thigh, and she was white. His heart contracted with relief – it was serious, but he hadn't killed her. If she'd died, she would have fallen into-

"Limbo," he muttered. Rafe cocked his head, an amused smile on his lips. "What was that?"

"I didn't kill her," Arthur replied, turning to the other man. "If I had, she would have fallen into limbo. Its a nowhere place. Just raw, infinite, subconscious."

Rafe turned to the Architect. "Easily solved, Bambi."

To Arthur's horror, he pointed the gun straight at her.

* * *

"Eames," Fran whispered urgently, "Eames you have to wake up."

No response. The Forger was still in a deep, dreamlike state. She bit her lip, and put her fingers to his neck. "Low pulse," she muttered.

A clanking noise sounded in the corridor. The two orderlies opened the door to the cell and stepped in, surveying the bodies of Fran and Eames. Both were lying on the padded floor, giving the appearance of dreaming peacefully. The two men exchanged glances. One was elderly, with greying hair clumsily slicked back. The other, a younger man, had a shock of dirty blonde hair and the trace of a scar across his top lip.

"What's with them?" The younger man whispered.

The older orderly shrugged. "Catatonic, according to the boss." He rubbed his hands. "Its cold in here."

The younger orderly swallowed. "So what do we do?"

"Take them for ECT."

* * *

"Don't," Arthur said, his voice threatening to break. "Don't."

Rafe looked at him. "You're right. I don't kill people. Here."

He held the gun in his hand, offering it to Arthur. "You do it. After all, she cramps your style, not mine."

Fran blinked. The lights in the warehouse suddenly seemed to be amplified in intensity, bright, and harsh. She felt a jolt. Puzzled, she turned to Eames.

"Eames? Did you feel-"

Suddenly, a buzzing sound erupted in her ears, and she fell into darkness.

* * *

Arthur looked at the gun. "No."

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, Arthur. I guess you're the one with the power, as this means I'll just have to do it myself."

He put his arm out, gently pushing Arthur aside. Suddenly, the Point Man lunged, using his fist. Rafe's head snapped back as Arthur delivered a blow to his jaw. The older man staggered slightly, and reached for the wall. Noting the weakness, Arthur grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back. Rafe turned, and lashed out with his foot, causing Arthur to stagger. Before Arthur could straighten up, the other man was practically on top of him, pushing him towards the floor.

"You're mine," he spat, and before Arthur could move again, the gun was pushed up, against his throat.

* * *

The buzzing. She'd never heard anything like it before. A giant, disconnected drone...eternal...

Voices...floating in and out...

Suddenly, she blinked. A wall of white. As a face leaned over her, she blinked again, and then her vision began to clear.

_Hospital._

She felt something hard and rubbery against her tongue. With a sense of shock, she realised what was happening.

ECT.

_Oh God, no. Please, no._

"That's it," the voice said, and she felt the buzzing start to dissipate. "What about him?"

"He's coming round."

"OK. You can remove the restraints."

Fran lay still whilst the restraints around her wrists were unbuckled. She turned her head slightly, and noticed they were also untying Eames.

"That's it, lets go."

She watched as they left.

* * *

Arthur grabbed at the gun, and pushing, forced it away from his neck.

"You really want to live?" Rafe's voice was taunting, laced with malice. "Because I wouldn't want to be you. I wouldn't want to be trapped in your miserable little existence. Filled with rage, feeling impotent, feeling that you can't even fuck without guilt. Wouldn't you be better off dead?"

* * *

Fran shook the Forger. "Eames...Eames!"

To her delight, he began to move. "Hummm?"

"Eames. Wake up. We're still dreaming, but you're in the same level as the others." She paused, hoping that he hadn't been damaged.

"Dreaming..." he mumbled, his fingers feeling their way down her arm, and starting to tighten. His eyes flickered. "Dreaming..,"

"Yes," she said, her voice starting to catch in her throat. "You are. Come on, we need to find the others."

"Others..." Eames mumbled. Fran blinked back tears. Suddenly, a memory returned to her.

"Vitamin B14" she muttered, "it has to work."

* * *

"Better off dead?" Arthur choked out, looking into the bottomless depths of Rafe's eyes. "Are you sure you don't mean you?"

Rafe smiled, calmly. "You're so right."

Before Arthur could stop him, he put the gun in his mouth, and fired.


	73. Chapter 73

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

"You bastard," Arthur muttered under his breath, furiously. He glared at the body of the psychopath, lying slumped on the floor, the back of his head blown away.

A moan alerted him to Ariadne, who was starting to move. He hurried over. "Ari," he whispered, soothingly. "Ari, please don't try and move."

"Arth-" she managed to speak the first syllable, before lapsing again into unconsciousness.

Arthur bit his lip. Quickly, he stripped off the greying tunic top he was wearing, and ripped it in half. Fashioning a makeshift tourniquet, he would it round the Architect's leg.

"I'm sorry, this may hurt a little."

Ariadne jolted slightly as Arthur pulled the material tight, and groaned slightly. He reached out, and gently brushed the side of her face with his fingers. "Ari."

She stirred. "Arthur..." she began to blink. "Where..?"

"Still in the dream," he told her, softly. "Rafe's dead."

"Wh-what?"

"He's killed himself," Arthur said, his voice burning with suppressed anger. "He couldn't face what he'd done."

She blinked. "Is he...?"

"Limbo," Arthur said. He started to slump. "That's it, finished. We can't bring him back. He's gone. Lost. And in the real world, he'll be a vegetable."

She groaned softly, starting to attempt to sit up. "So we..."

"Its over." Arthur looked at her. "I need to find Eames, and Fran. We need to get ready. The kick..." He looked at his watch. "We only have an hour left. If I go, I'll lock the door, leave you and Cobb here. Will you be ok?"

She swallowed. "Arthur, if I die in this-"

He felt his heart contract. Suddenly, everything felt too much to bear, and a surge of anger started to ignite. He bitterly regretted ever letting Cobb talk them into this. They had tried to extract from a psychopath, and failed. Now the team had been split, and with a feeling of dread, he realised that Eames and Fran could also be in Limbo. He shuddered.

"You'll be ok," he assured her, surprising himself with how reassuring his words sounded. Then, leaning over, he kissed her forehead. "I will come back for you."

She swallowed. "I know you will."

Nodding, he turned and walked to Cobb. The Extractor was still breathing, but it was shallow. Arthur reached for his pulse point, and was relieved to find his heart beat was strong. "Hang in there," he muttered, his anger with Extractor eclipsed by the man's situation.

Swallowing, he opened the door, and exited. Looking down the corridor, he noted it was empty on both sides. His heartbeat starting to slow, he turned, and began to walk purposefully, looking for the treatment rooms.

* * *

Fran threw bottles on the floor. She knew exactly what she was looking for, what was needed. _This is a dream,_ she told herself. _I should be able to find what I need here. _

Finally, her hand grasped the bottle – Vitamin B14. Swallowing, she reached for the syringes, and dunked the needle in the pot.

"Oh, I wouldn't bother," a calm voice interrupted. Turning, she came face to face with Ryan.

* * *

Arthur walked down the corridor, listening for every sound. He was reminded, he thought grimly, of the Fischer inception, where no sooner had he left the hotel room than he'd been jumped. He paused at a door, noting it was slightly ajar.

"Possibly," he muttered under his breath, putting his hand on the doorknob. As he began to twist it, he suddenly felt a blow between his shoulder blades, causing him to gasp. He turned, and found himself confronted by a male nurse, who, he noted, was easily 50lbs heavier.

"Looking for something?" The projection asked sarcastically, and Arthur dodged a blow to the face. The projections' hand went into the glass panel of the door, shattering it. Arthur turned, and suddenly felt a grab on the back of his neck, and another forcing his hand up his back. He choked.

"Look at the spikes in the glass," another voice said,mockingly.

"Look at this guy – he's a toothpick! Shall we snap him in half?"

"No, let's just put this through his neck!"

Arthur swallowed. If he died, he'd be in limbo, with Rafe. He felt his throat gently graze the top of the glass spike.

* * *

"Ryan," Fran said, pleasantly. "Good to see you."

The man's eyes flickered. His look transferred from her to Eames, who aside from the motions of his chest, gave the impression of a corpse.

"Is it?" He looked at her. "You know, Rafe always hated you."

"I do know," she replied. Her mind was racing, and she looked squarely at the projection.

"He told me everything."

"I'm sure he did."

"He told me to do everything."

"I'm sure he did that, too."

"He told me to kill Chandra."

"I know he did," she replied, her nerves holding. She cast a quick glance at the Forger, and her hand tightened its grip on the syringe.

"Do you want to know why I killed her?"

"Go ahead."

Ryan's face twitched. "He threatened to kill me first."

Fran swallowed. "Ryan. I'm sorry. I really am. But...I have to do this."

He blinked. "What?"

"This." Playing on the element of surprise, she jabbed the syringe in his neck. He screamed, and as she pulled it out, he staggered backwards, crashing into a collection of surgical equipment. She turned, and wiped the needle, and grabbed Eames' arm.

"Hope this helps," she muttered, as she plunged the syringe in.

* * *

"I wouldn't put it through his neck," the other male voice said. "Turn him round."

Arthur felt himself jerked roughly to face the two assailants, both of whom were smirking. He swallowed.

"I wouldn't-" he choked out, only to find a sharp, stabbing pain plunged into his chest. Suddenly, he found himself in darkness.

* * *

Eames coughed, and began to stir. Fran, biting her lip, watched. "Eames? Eames!"

"Huh? Oh," the Forger muttered, starting to blink and stir. He turned his head and looked at her. "Fran...? Where...?"

"We're still in the dream," she told him. "We were in limbo, or something. You were drugged before you went under – you went into another level."

The Forger coughed. "Sounds right. The others...?"

"I have no idea." Fran looked at him. "We're running out of time!"

Eames began to sit up. "Help me get free of this. We'll find them."

* * *

Darkness. Coldness. Arthur felt it seeping through his clothes. He reached with his hands, and felt nothing.

"Open your eyes," a voice whispered.

Blinking, Arthur did so, locking eyes with Rafe.


	74. Chapter 74

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur blinked, and shuddered as his vision came into focus. A bright shaft of light was penetrating his eyes.

He tried to move, then realised, he couldn't.

He was confined, strapped.

As he started to look down, he realised he was tied across the neck, putting pressure on his spine. From slightly bending his neck he saw his wrists were tied. To a chair's arms. With a feeling of horror, he began to realise what limbo he had fallen into.

"Took your time," a voice stated. Arthur jolted. A young woman was standing next to him, a look of pity on her face. He blinked. Her smooth, carved features, and dark hair, reminded him of Fran. Then, with a sense of shock, he realised that this her sister.

_I'm in Limbo. With Rafe. And one of his victims. _

Arthur swallowed. "Hey. You're-"

"It doesn't matter," she said, gently. "We're here, and so is my husband. He'll be along to take care of you soon."

_Take care of me?_ Arthur's eyes bulged, a feeling of terror starting to build. Limbo was another level of subconscious, but he knew that he could still feel pain.

"You're Fran's sister," he choked out.

She nodded. "Yes."

"You're- ?"

"Mia," she said, smiling calmly. "He looks after me."

Arthur looked at her. "I'm sure he does."

* * *

Fran hurried down the corridor, Eames besides her. She stole a glance at him – the Forger still looked a little groggy, but he was wide awake. They turned a corner, and she gasped.

Arthur lay sprawled out on the floor, jagged glass in his chest. Blood was oozing around the wound, and gritting her teeth, Fran went over.

"He's-" she swallowed. The Point Man's pulse has stopped. "He's dead."

Eames choked. "That means he'll be in limbo."

"Limbo?"

"Just raw dreamspace. Nothing is down there." Eames looked at her. "He'll be alone."

Fran pulled her hand away from the Point Man, and faced the Forger. "We have to bring him back."

"We have to give him a kick," Eames agreed, "but his mind could be destroyed."

Fran pulled her hand away from Arthur's neck. Swallowing, she face Eames. "There's only one solution. I'll have to go down there with him."

"Fran, you can't-" Eames was horrified. "You have no idea whats down there."

"I have a suspicion," she said, smiling grimly. "Arthur's alone down there, I can help him. You need to find Ariadne and Cobb."

"Fran..."

"Eames, just do it."

The Forger looked at her. "OK." He leaned over, and took her arm, and pulled her into a kiss. She reciprocated, winding her arms around him and kissing him passionately. After a few seconds, they broke apart.

"I will come back," she said, calmly.

"Please." His tone was soft.

She turned, and hauled out the PASIV. Pulling an IV line out, she sat down, and plugged it into her arm, after connecting another to Arthur's. Closing her eyes, she fell into the darkness.

* * *

"Hey, Mia," a soft voice called. Arthur tried to turn his head. "Good of you to join me."

"Of course," she said, softly.

Rafe stepped into view. Arthur blinked. He'd aged a few years, but his eyes were still impenetrable.

"Good of you to join us, Bambi," Rafe said softly. "And now you're going to see what I can do...with my wife's help."

"She's not real," Arthur spat out, "she doesn't exist."

"She's real to me. And this is your reality. You're here, and helpless. Start to enjoy it."

"I beg to differ."

Arthur blinked. The coldly angry visage of Fran had come into view. He felt his heart contract.

Rafe turned. "Hello Fran."


	75. Chapter 75

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Rafe turned, his eyes glinting.

"Francesca," he said coldly, "how good to see you. You can help me." He turned to Arthur, and clamped a hand over his wrist. "Give me your arm, Bambi," he said softly, "before I take your head."

Fran looked at Arthur. "Leave him, Rafe."

The other man looked up, his face creasing in irritation. "Leave him? Interesting request, sweetheart. I would have thought you'd be glad to get rid of this guy. He's always there, like an overgrown boy scout who just has to play at being the hero."

"And we need him to play the hero," Fran said softly, "when we're confronted with guys like you."

Arthur blinked.

"Let him go."

Rafe looked at her. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

Rafe smiled, showing teeth. "Care to explain why?"

"You only kill to be a somebody, Rafe." Fran looked at him. "You can't be bothered with hard work, or trying to to achieve. So you kill. Its gives you a feeling of power. But you can't actually kill them yourself – you're too much of a coward. So you get others to kill for you."

Rafe turned away from her. "Mia!"

The projection stepped forward. "Yes?"

"Did I kill you, sweetheart?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Who killed you?"

She looked at Fran. "I committed suicide."

* * *

"Dom!" Eames shouted as he hurried down the corridor. "Dom!"

Ariadne blinked. "Eames?" she whispered. Getting up, she walked to the door, and cracked it open. Her eyes widened with relief as she saw the Forger. "Eames! Over here!"

He blinked, and ran towards her. "Ariadne, thank Christ!" On impulse, he pulled her close. She let him hold her, and to her horror, began to cry.

"Hey, princess," he said, drawing back. "Come on, dry your eyes. We'll get out of here."

"Arthur!" Ariadne choked out. "He's gone!"

"No," Eames said, looking uneasy. "He's in limbo. With Fran."

She looked at him in horror. "Limbo?" Her jaw dropped. "Eames, we have to-"

He took her arm. "Listen to me," he said, hoarsely. "Fran and Arthur – we have to trust them. Please, Ari. I'm here to get you, and Dom. Where is he?"

"He's-" she swallowed. "He's over there."

Eames turned. The Extractor was still lying, strapped onto the bed. Swallowing, he approached him, and touched his arm.

"Dom?"

A slight moan escaped his lips. Eames felt bile rising in the back of his throat. This was the most horrific scenario he'd ever found himself in.

"We're getting out of here," he said, gently. "All of us."

* * *

"Suicide?" Fran looked at her sister, shock registering on her face. "Suicide?"

"Yes," Mia said in a quiet, almost dreamy voice. "Suicide. I couldn't live with the guilt. Guilt, Fran. Its a killer."

Rafe smirked, earning him a furious glare from Arthur.

"But, the guilt-?"

"You remember those friends, who died?"

"Yes."

"I helped Rafe kill them." Mia fixed her sister with hazel eyes, a near mirror image of Fran's own. "It was so easy. We just lured them out, and then I helped him. I stabbed her, and he strangled him. Then we dumped the bodies."

Fran's face was white. Arthur felt his heart contract in sympathy. "Fran!" he shouted. "She is just a projection. Don't think that this is real!"

Fran turned to him. "But in dreams, your subconscious comes to the fore. All the secrets you keep buried inside, come tumbling out. I'm learning the truth. My sister committed suicide because she couldn't live with the guilt."

"Not true," Rafe looked at Fran.

"What?"

"She committed suicide because I threatened to kill her." His icy blue eyes locked with Fran's. "It was easier for her to kill herself, than have me do it. And also, she's never going to face justice. How does it feel Francesca, to find out that your sister is a coward?"

"So are you." Arthur spoke.

"What?"

"You killed yourself in a dream. Blew your head away. Don't you realise that Fran and I will wake up, but you'll be here forever. You'll be here, locked in your own hell pit."

Rafe blinked. "I-"

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. Frank blinked. "What?"

Arthur looked at her. "The timer's running out."

She swallowed. "Which means?"

"The dream's collapsing. The others have to pull us out."

* * *

Ariadne looked at Eames. The ground was trembling, and a wall was starting to crack. "Eames!"

"Dream's ending," the Forger said. "OK, in this level, we've got about an hour. Which means Fran and Arthur have-"

"Six months," the Architect said, looking frightened. "We have to give them the kick!"

Eames looked at her. "We do. All we can do is try."


	76. Chapter 76

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you. **

Arthur looked at Rafe. "Let us go." As he spoke, one of the walls gave an ominous crack.

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "I'll let her go," he said, gesturing at Fran. "But not you. You stay."

Arthur glared. "Not possible. We're both going. You're staying here."

"You go." Fran spoke quietly.

"What?"

"I'm staying." Fran turned to Mia. "I'm staying here, with my sister."

* * *

Eames rubbed his face. "We need to find some defibrilators. They're the only thing that will bring them back." He looked at the Architect. "Best place to start is medical supplies."

She nodded. "I think its on the second floor."

"Allright." The Forger nodded. "Stay close to me. There will be projections." He shuddered.

"Did you encounter any?" the Architect's voice was timid. Eames swallowed.

"No," he lied, then smiled encouragingly. "Come on, let's find it."

* * *

"I have to stay here because I need to discover the truth." Fran was looking at Mia, her face a mixture of confusion and unhappiness. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke again.

"I need to find out what motivated her to assist him."

"You know, for a shrink, you're pretty stupid." Rafe's voice bit with venom. "She did ti because she loved me. Because she couldn't bear the idea of making me unhappy." He walked over to Mia, and caressed her cheek. "She'll do anything for me."

"More a case of she couldn't bear the idea of you hurting her," Fran snapped. She looked at Mia. "What did he do to you?"

Mia silently began rolling up her sleeves. Fran blinked. As she looked, she gasped.

Her forearms were a mutilated patchwork of scars and burns. There was barely an inch of unmarked skin. Fran looked at them, and then at Rafe.

"Is this what he did?"

"Yes." Mia's tone was barely a whisper.

Fran looked at Rafe, furious. "You're sick."

He smirked. "Really? Like you're unobservant? You didn't even notice."

Fran looked at her sister. "I-"

"Fran, ignore him." Arthur's tone was sharp. "Ignore him. This isn't real. She's a projection. This is your guilt, this is coming through your subconscious."

"Shut up, Bambi." Rafe kicked Arthur, viciously. Arthur looked at him. "Make me."

The challenge made Rafe's eyes flash with fury. "You know...you've been spoiling for a fight." Leaning down, he unbuckled Arthur's restraints. The Point Man stood up, and face him.

"I'm glad you did that," Arthur spat.

"Oh really?" Rafe raised an eyebrow, mockingly.

"Yes." Before the other man could move, Arthur's fist collided with his jaw.

* * *

Eames and Ariadne hurried down the corridor. The ground was trembling again, and Ariadne felt herself lurch against the wall. Panting, she steadied herself, and followed the Forger.

"Here." Eames stopped in front of an operating theatre. "We can get the-"

Suddenly he was knocked sideways. Ariadne's eyes widened as a huge, hulking orderly appeared. As he did, the ground shook again, causing the wall to crack.

"Ari!" Eames shouted as he was pinned to the floor. "Get the defibrilator! Now!"

Nodding dumbly, she slipped into the room.

* * *

Arthur fell onto his back as Rafe pushed him down. "Wrong move," he spat.

Reaching upwards, Arthur grabbed Rafe's chin, and shoved his head up. With a howl of pain, the older man moved off him.

Suddenly, the ground shook again, causing the wall to crack. Bits of brick and sediment began to fall. Arthur swallowed.

"Fran!" He shouted.

No reply. He dodged Rafe's fist, letting it slam into the ground.

"Fran!"

Silence. As Arthur pushed against the psychopath, he realised that Fran had abandoned him.


	77. Chapter 77

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Arthur reached up, shoving his knee into Rafe's stomach. The older man gasped for breath, and began to move off the Point Man. Arthur exhaled, and got up.

Rafe straightened. Both men were facing each other. Rafe was the same height, but more fleshed out. Looking at how coiled the man was, Arthur knew that it was all muscle.

"Got a gun?" Rafe's voice was mocking.

"You'd like that," Arthur said, slowly, taking a step towards the killer. "You'd like it if I shot you. If I kill you in limbo, you'll never, ever wake up."

"But I'm in a dream, and I killed myself to get here." Rafe's eyes narrowed. "So where am I in the real world?"

"In a coma," Arthur told him. "Or, more precisely, a catatonic state. As far as the real world is concerned, you're comatose. But your mind is trapped down here."

"So's yours." Rafe took a step towards Arthur. "Sure you didn't plan this?"

"Excuse me?" Arthur raised his eyebrows and looked at Rafe. A slow grin was beginning to spread across the other man's face.

"You and me...alone..." Rafe's tone was soft, almost gentle. "You know I'm bisexual, Arthur. You're the most attractive man I've set eyes on for a very long time. Why don't you..." he came a step closer - "give into your basic instincts? I know you want to hold the little brunette piece's hand - why don't you admit that you really want to? You don't like women, Arthur. That's your problem. I can see that. Fran can see that. But you won't admit it."

Arthur took a step forward, the two men were now in direct eye contact. The Point Man looked at Rafe, smiling.

"You're right, Rafe," he said, calmly. "You're right. I've wanted you since I first saw you, at the bar. Remember?"

"Oh, I remember," Rafe said, his face cracking into a wolfish grin. "You were in those tight jeans and that shirt- I fell asleep thinking of you draped over me."

"I bet you did," Arthur said softly.

"So, come on, how about it?" Rafe was getting closer. "How about you, and I-"

Arthur took a step forward. "Come on..."

Arthur smiled, and stepped closer to the other man. "Why not?"

Rafe grinned, and put his hands on the sides of Arthur's head, drawing him in. Suddenly, Arthur's fist flew up in an uppercut, causing the other man's head to jerk back. Rafe staggered, turned his head, and spat out a mouthful of salivia threaded with blood.

"You son-of-a-bitch," he snarled, and aimed for Arthur's face with his fist. The Point Man dodged, grabbing Rafe around his waist. Spinning on one foot, he slammed him into the wall. The other man groaned, and the wall cracked, ominously. Taking a step back, the Point Man turned to hurry out the room, but suddenly found himself thrown onto the floor, face down.

"You-" Rafe's breath was hot and ragged. "You fucking prick tease!"

Arthur forced up one elbow, catching the other man underneath the chin. He rolled onto his side, and heard Rafe smack into the floor. As long, thin fingers tried to claw their way underneath Arthur's shirt, he grabbed one finger, and started to bend it back. He heard a sharp exhalation, then a low growl. Fingers wound their way into Arthur's hair, pulling at his scalp. He kicked back with his heel, catching Rafe in the leg. As he heard another groan, he used the opportunity to push Rafe off him completely, scrambling to his feet.

As he turned, Rafe was suddenly behind him, wrapping his arm around his neck and putting him in a head lock.

"You're not going anywhere," he snarled. "Get used to it."


	78. Chapter 78

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**

Ariadne swallowed. Eames was pinned on the floor, by a man easily half his weight again. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the defibrilator.

"Go!" Eames shouted, twisting his head to avoid being punched in the face. "Just go!"

She paused, biting her lip. "Eames, I-"

Her voice was drowned out by a loud cracking. Looking up, she saw the wall was beginning to come apart. Her eyes met Eames'.

"You don't have time!" He shouted. "Just go!"

Turning, holding the defibrilator tightly, she turned and ran out of the room.

* * *

Arthur felt Rafe tighten his grip on his neck. He could feel the pressure starting to build in his temporal lobes. He gasped.

"Hurts, does it?" Rafe snarled, pulling his arm tighter. "Sure you're not getting a thrill from this?"

Arthur looped his fingers over the other man's forearm. He began to pull, slowly, and painfully. Rafe's muscles tensed. Gritting his teeth, he raised his foot, and kicked Rafe hard in the shin. The other man staggered slightly. With a hard pull, Arthur slid under the other man's arm, and ran for the door. Throwing it open, he just missed hitting Rafe in the face.

"That's it!" Rafe roared after him, his voice almost defeaning in the eerie silence of the corridor. "Run! I can catch you!"

Arthur tore down the corridor. He knew exactly what he was looking for.

* * *

Fran walked down the corridor. "Mia?" She called. "Mia?" She paused, listening. After what seemed like hours, she heard a soft sobbing further down the hallway.

She walked towards it, finally noticing an ajar door. Opening it, she saw her sister, with another girl. Also dark haired, the two were holding each other, crying. The sound of their sobs was unnerving. Steeling herself, she walked towards them.

"Mia," she said, quietly. "Who is this?"

Mia looked at her. "This is Chandra. She was another of Rafe's victims."

"What did he do to you?" Fran tried to keep her voice steady.

Chandra looked at her, her eyes like bottomless pits. "He got my brother to kill me."

"I know." Fran took a deep breath. "I know."

Mia looked at her. "You know him, don't you Fran?"

"Yes, I do." Fran looked at her sister. "Mia...I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"Yes." Fran swallowed again. "I slept with him. The night before you got married. I wanted to spite you, and I-" She looked at her sister, tears beginning to blur her vision. "I-"

Mia walked towards her, and placed her hand on her cheek. "Its ok," she whispered. "Its ok."

* * *

Ariadne ran down the corridor, her heart pounding in her chest. Shaking her head to clear it, she turned the corner. Arthur and Fran were both still lying on the floor, their expressions calm.

She knelt down, putting the defibrilator on the floor. As she switched it on, she tried to steady her breathing. The thrum of the equipment was almost deafening. Pulling the pads away, she turned to the two of them.

"I can't decide!" She said out loud, tears of frustration coming to her eyes. Closing them, she put the pads down randomly on one of the sleeping bodies.

* * *

Cobb took a deep breath. He felt weak, and shaky. He heard the sound of the walls shifting, and tried to unbuckle the straps that restrained him.

"Shit!" He swore, as his hand refused to clamp round the strap. He leaned back, feeling hopeless.

"Can I help?" A soft voice asked. The Extractor shifted, his eyes widening.

"Mal?" He choked as a slim, dark haired figure moved towards him, seamlessly unbuckling his restraints. "Mal, how did you...?"

"I came for you, Dom," she said quietly, moving to stroke his hair. "I came to help you."

"But you-"

"Sssh," she said, soothingly. "He'll be back."

Cobb's eyes met hers. "What?"

"He'll be back."

Cobb cleared his throat. "Mal, I know he'll be back. He's a dangerous maniac and-" he broke off, realising that she was lying a finger on his lip.

"Not him," she whispered. "Arthur."

* * *

Fran felt a sudden, sharp jolt. She gasped, and put her hand to her chest.

"Are you allright?" Mia's tone was concerned.

"I'm-" Fran looked at her. "Mia, this isn't real. You know that?"

Mia smiled. "Francesca. My whole life with Rafe was never real. He married me as a gateway to you." She looked at her. "He never wanted me. He wanted you, he wanted Chandra's brother - he's spent his entire life lusting after what he can't have." She smiled again, with a sad edge to it. "He's a mess. Take care of him for me."

Fran nodded. "Trust me, I'll do that." She looked at Mia.

"I want to stay with you," she whispered. "But I can't, because you don't exist. And-"

Her words were broken off by another jolt. Her body spasemd, and she found herself falling.

* * *

Cobb blinked. After the darkness of the room he'd been kept in, the harsh brightness of the lights needled his eyes. He tried to acclimatise, but then heard an agonised shout. His head jerked up.

"Eames," he whispered, and began to move along the corridor.

* * *

Arthur kept running. He ignored the sound of the older man's footsteps behind him, focusing on what was ahead. A staircase. Taking an abrupt turn to the right, he jumped onto the first step.

"Follow me," he whispered under his breath. As he climbed, he could hear Rafe behind him. Arthur kept going.

"Penrose steps," he muttered. "Let's see how long you can keep up with me."

Arthur ran up another flight. Then another. Got to a landing. He put his foot on a step, only to find a hand grab his shoulder.

"Bad luck, Bambi," Rafe said smugly, as Arthur turned to find himself looking into the piercing blue eyes. "You misjudged. Badly." He chuckled.

Arthur could hear the staircase began to creak and groan as the dream continued to collapse. He looked at Rafe, and shook his head.

"Not me. You misjudged."

What?" Rafe looked slightly confused.

"Look behind you," Arthur said, smiling.

Rafe turned. The landing gave way to a sheer drop. Nothing was beneath it.

Arthur seized the others man's lapels, noticing how close Rafe was to the edge.

"Paradox," he whispered.


	79. Chapter 79

**Discliamer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Rafe's ice blue eyes locked with Arthur's dark brown ones. The two men were standing precariously close to the edge. The faint trembling under their feet was mirroring Arthur's rapid heart rate.

"A paradox?" Rafe tilted his head. "Are you hoping I'm stupid enough to go over the edge?" He started to laugh. "I've killed myself in this dream, Arthur. I'm already dead."

"And you're never going to wake up." Arthur's gaze was steely. "You've managed to avoid justice. You're a true psychopath, Rafe. Not only do you have to hurt everyone else, you can never face up to your actions."

"Spare me the scout boy moralising." Rafe grinned. "I enjoyed everything I did. All of it."

"Of course you did." Arthur kept his voice calm. "All of the rape, assault, and murder." He looked at Rafe, fixedly. "But you never got what you wanted, did you?" He smiled. "You never got Chandra's brother. And you never got Fran -not completely. You failed, Rafe. You never got what you really wanted."

"I did." Rafe nodded. "Its called, power, Arthur. Power over other people. I love it. And you want it."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

"Yes, you do." Rafe smiled, menacingly. "Look at you, standing here with your little mind tricks. What you gonna do, Arthur? You can kill me in the dream. And that makes you as much of a killer as I am. Because we both enjoy it. We enjoy manipulating people to reach our goals."

"Maybe I do."

"Of course you do. You have a cold, ruthless streak, Arthur, and so do I. Yes, I slept with Fran. I killed her sister, and her husband. I killed Chandra. I wanted to kill her brother. But it was to cover my tracks. Its amazing what you have to do in order to survive."

"Yes," Arthur said, their eyes locked. "It is."

"So, why don't you take your self- righteous moral-"

His words broke off in a scream. Arthur had pushed him, hard. The Point Man took a step back as he saw the man falling.

"You're right, Rafe," he muttered. "Power over other people. I love it. Power over and inflicting pain on scum like you."

He took a deep breath. The man's screams were ringing in his ears. Feeling the stone steps tremble again, he turned and began to hurry down them.

* * *

Fran felt herself fall. It was an odd, weightless sensation. Suddenly, she felt a jerk, and sat up, gasping.

"Oh, God," she heard another, feminine voice gasp out. "You're back!"

Fran turned. "Ari?" she croaked out. "Ari, you-"

The Architect nodded. Fran's eyes were drawn to her thigh. "You're hurt!"

Ariadne blinked. She'd forgotten about the stab wound in her flesh - she'd been more focused on trying to pull the others out of limbo. "Its nothing," she said, bravely, but the older woman didn't miss the wince on her face.

"Let me help Arthur," Fran said gently. "You look exhausted." Before the Architect could protest, she'd taken the defilibrator pads from her.

Ariadne blinked. "But-" Fran was already charging them. "Open his shirt," she requested. Rubbing them together, she put them on the Point Man's narrow torso.

"Let's hope this works again," she muttered. She turned her head, and saw Ariadne's face. Realising the mistake she was about to make, the psychiatrist handed them back.

"Go save him," she said, gently. "I'm going to try and find Eames."

* * *

Eames gasped as his assailant tried to pin him. He choked as a large hand reached for his throat.

"Let go-" the Forger felt his voice die into a whisper. Twisting frantically, he looked for anything that would stop the other man.

Cobb paused. He'd heard the Forger, he was sure. "Eames!" he shouted. "Eames!"

* * *

Arthur ran down the steps. They were starting to shake, and he suddenly felt a slight joly of panic. If they cracked before he reached the end, he'd end up in the same place as Rafe.

_Keep going, _he urged himself. His heart was pounding, and suddenly -

He felt his body spasm. Gasping, he paused, and put a hand on his chest. Another jolt. Feeling shaken, he began to take the stairs more slowly.

Another jolt.

He paused again, wondering what was happening.

Then there was an ominous cracking sound. Looking behind, he saw part of the staircase begin to fall into nothing.

* * *

Ariadne felt Arthur's body jolt. Raising the pads, she tried to breathe normally. "Come on, Arthur," she whispered, her voice beginning to sound frantic. "Come _on!"_

* * *

Eames choked. His assailant was tightening his grip on his throat. He could feel his eyes starting to bulge, and his vision was beginning to swim.

"Let-" he could barely gasp out.

A grim chuckled came from his assailant. "Not a chance."

* * *

Cobb turned, and hurried down the corridor. Seeing a door that was half open, he shoved it open.

His eyes widened. The Forger was being strangled. Without stopping to think, he grabbed the other man's shoulders, and pulled.

"Out of the way, Cobb." He blinked, and turned to see Fran standing in the doorway, with a gun. Numbly, he stepped to the side, closing his eyes as she unloaded two bullets into the other man's back. As the man fell on top of the Forger, both moved forward to drag him off.

"Christ," Eames choked out. He blinked, and looked from one to the other. "Thank you." It came out in a wheezing gasp.

Cobb helped him to his feet. "Come on." He looked at Fran. "That includes you."

She nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Arthur blinked. Another spasm was passing through his body. He choked, feeling the pressure on his chest. The stairs were coming apart under his feet, and he blindly reached out for something to hold.

Nothing. With a sickening realisation, he felt the stairs under his feet begin to slide away.

* * *

Ariadne lifted up the pads. She was beginning to feel exhausted, and terror was starting to course through her. Despite her efforts, Arthur was stubbornly unresponsive.

"Come on, Arthur!" she shouted, her frustration breaking to the surface. "Come on!"

Another jolt to the Point Man's body. Nothing.

In anger and frustration, she threw the pads at the wall. Looking at Arthur, she laid her hands over each other, interlocking her fingers. Placing her palms on his chest, she began to press.

"One...two..."

* * *

"Where are the others?" Cobb's voice betrayed his worry.

Fran swallowed. "Ariadne brought me back from limbo. But-"

"Arthur's still down there?" Cobb looked at her, incredulously. "You left Arthur down in limbo? How could you, Fran? We trusted you!"

"Hey!" Eames stepped forward, looking at the Extractor. "This isn't going to help-"

Cobb ignored the Forger, and took a step closer to Fran. "You have lied to us since the very beginning! You have misled us at every turn! You have always known more than you ever let on! Arthur was right- I was a fool to trust you! Now, for once, tell me the damn truth! What do you know? Tell me, what do you know, now!"

Fran swallowed, and looked at Cobb.

"I slept with Rafe." Her voice was agonisingly calm. "I slept with Rafe, Dom. Is that what you wanted to hear? I knew he was a psychopath. I knew that he killed my sister. And he did it because he couldn't have what he wanted. He's a child pulling the wings of a butterfly."

Eames looked at her, shocked. She turned to him, and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Eames' expression was indecipherable. "Save it," he said, his tone neutral. "Once we get out of this insanity, you can apologise to me again." His eyes met hers. "If I'd realised you were into that, Francesca, I might have not been such a gentleman."

She swallowed. "Eames, I-"

He walked past her without another word.

* * *

"Three...four..."

Her own breathing was coming in rapid gasps. She tried to keep her hands steady.

"Five...six..."

* * *

Arthur could feel himself beginning to fall. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to his fate.

* * *

"Seven...eight..."

* * *

Falling. Falling into-

His back slammed onto something solid.

* * *

"Nine...ten..."

Suddenly, she heard a choking, gasping sound. Blinking, she saw Arthur's eyes flutter, and begin to open.

"Arthur?" her voice sounded pale, timid. "Arthur, can you hear me?"

He coughed, a dry, rattling sound. "Ariadne?"

She swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous, unsure. "Yes, Arthur, its me."

He started sitting up, and began to focus on her face. Reaching out a hand, he touched her cheek with his palm.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She swallowed, her facial muscles beginning to relax. "Its...no problem." She smiled. "Really."

"I was supposed to be protecting you." His voice sounded bitter. "I promised at the beginning...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For letting you get caught up in this insanity...we're in the mind of a madman, who is probably never going to wake up...and never get justice..."

"We found out what he did-"

"And he'll never-" Arthur broke off. The walls were beginning to crumble. On impulse, he pulled her close, and she responded.

"The dream's collapsing," he said, nerves beginning to edge his voice. "We have to go."

She nodded. "OK." They both struggled to their feet, supporting each other. They began to walk, trying to dodge the bits of falling debris that was starting to litter the corridor.

"What did you-" She swallowed.

He smiled. "Do to Rafe?"

"Yes."

Arthur swallowed. He could still see the man as he fell, the arrogance in his eyes melting and being replaced by fear. Suddenly, Arthur had felt the flash that their roles were reversed. Rafe's power had disappeared - he'd suddenly been vulnerable. Arthur tightened his grip on the Architect.

"Nothing." he lied, feeling a stab of guilt. "I never caught up with him."

"Oh." She swallowed. "Well, thats a good thing, right?"

Arthur nodded. The power and arrogance of the other man - he shivered. _We're alike_, he remembered. "Come on," he said gently.

* * *

The others huddled in a corridor. Fran was slightly apart from the two men. Eames looked at her, and felt a slight tremour of guilt.

"Fran-"

"Save it," she said, more curtly than she'd intended. He blinked, feeling snubbed. The three waited.

"Are they-" Cobb spoke, breaking the icy silence.

"Should be," Eames replied.

The walls were continuing to crash. Fran looked at them. "I'm sorry," she muttered again. Pulling the gun out of her waistband, she put it in her mouth.

Eames turned, noticing. "NO!"

* * *

"OK," Arthur said, as he and Ariadne moved down the corridor, their arms wrapped around each other for support, "we're almost th-"

His words were cut off as a large amount of brick began to crash down. Suddenly, the timer started to shrill.

* * *

Ariadne blinked. Gasping slightly, she began to sit up. Looking around, her eyes widened.

They were in Rafe's apartment. All of them. She felt someone stir next to her. Arthur.

"Hey," she said, softly. He swallowed. "Hey-" he broke off. He blinked. "Where-"

A cough was heard. He looked. Eames was stirring, followed by Cobb.

"Looks like everyone-" Ariadne began.

"Wait." Arthur's voice was sharper than he'd intended. "Fran-"

Her eyes blinked, and she stirred. Arthur felt himself relax. "Thank God, we're all back."

Eames was sitting up, rubbing his forehead. "Christ." He turned to the Point Man. "Well?"

Arthur turned to look at Rafe. The man was lying on the bed, his face perfectly composed in sleep. The Point Man felt a wave of revulsion shudder through him.

"He's where he deserves," he said, his voice clipped. "Buried inside."

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	80. Chapter 80

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne looked uncertain. "What do we do now?"

"We go." Eames spoke, his words taking the group by surprise. "We go. We leave him, we forget this ever happened."

Cobb looked at the Forger. "You don't mean that." He frowned as he saw the Forger's expression was set. "Eames, please-"

"I told you," Eames interrupted, "that as soon as this job had finished, that was it. I'm gone." He looked at the Extractor. "We got him, we found out what he did...and now he's in a coma and will never talk again. This was pointless."

Cobb blinked. The anger in Eames' voice had seeped out like venom. He swallowed, trying to compose his thoughts. "Eames, you and I need to-"

"There's nothing to talk about," the Forger intercepted. "Nothing at all. The job's done. Finished. Its over."

Without looking at any of the others, he began to leave the room.

* * *

"Eames!" Fran practically ran after him. "Eames, wait, please!"

He stopped. As he turned to face her, she could see the pain and distress etched into his face. He raised an eyebrow, taking in her dishevelled appearance. She met his eyes, not blinking.

"Its not going to make any difference." Eames shook his head. "Whatever you have to say, Fran, its not-"

"Eames, you're traumatised." She spoke firmly. "You all are. We've been inside the head of a psychopath for the equivalent of two days, you need-"

"What I need," Eames spoke sharply, "is some space." He looked at her. "We have nothing. We don't have any evidence to pin on him. What we've got is a man in a coma, a man who claims that he encouraged other people to kill for him. We're never going to find them. So how on earth is any of this going to go to a court? Its not. I can tell you that now."

She looked at the floor.

"I'm flying back to London," Eames said, his voice soft. "There's no point in hanging around. We've just done the most dangerous extraction of our lives...for nothing. Oh, and I thought I'd met someone special-" their eyes met, and she shuddered at the anger his contained - "only to find it was probably a lie." He looked at her. "I've nothing to stay for. I'm sorry."

He turned again. Sick to her stomach, she watched the Forger as he began to walk away.

* * *

Arthur looked at Rafe. The older man was lying, stretched out on the bed. His face was perfectly composed, strands of black hair falling across his forehead. The Point Man felt a shudder of revulsion.

He glanced around. No-one else was in the room. Reaching for his side, he pulled out his gun, and pressed it against Rafe's forehead.

"One bullet," he whispered, "and thats it."

He paused, his finger coiled around the trigger.

* * *

Cobb walked out of the apartment, angry, and despairing. He saw Fran standing on the landing.

"Fran!"

As she turned, he saw her face, streaked with tears. He swallowed. "What happened?" The words came out roughly, and he winced.

"He's gone." Her voice was toneless. "He's gone."

Cobb pushed past her and ran down the stairs.

* * *

The trigger was beginning to bite into his skin. Arthur closed his eyes, and started to pull.

"Arthur?"

His eyes flew open, and he turned. Ariadne stood in the doorway, her face pale. She was looking at the Point Man, shock and distress showing on her face.

"Arthur," she spoke with a firmness that caused him to blink, "put the gun down."

The Point Man looked at her. "It doesn't matter Ariadne. His mind is lost. He's in limbo. He's a vegetable." He looked at the other man, his face twisting with anger. "He deserves to die. Properly."

"It won't help." Her voice was calm, but her heart was racing. She knew Arthur was capable of killing. She knew he'd killed in dreams. But in real life...

"No, it won't." Arthur's voice was flat. "But it might-"

"Might what?" she countered. "Make you feel better?" She swallowed, and took a step forward. "Arthur, can't we just...let it go?"

He kept his eyes focused upon Rafe. "Ariadne. This guy...he's..."

"He's insane," she spoke softly. "And he tried to make you insane as well. What you said in there, about that girl-"

"Its true." Arthur bit the words out. "Its all true. Threatened with expulsion, all because she lied." He looked at her, but kept the gun on Rafe's temple. "I'm not a rapist, Ariadne. I'm not a sexual predator."

"But you worry that you are," she countered. "Because, you wouldn't be letting it get to you like this." Her words sounded feeble, and she flushed with embarrassment.

"Before we even started this job," Arthur spoke, as though she were no longer there, "I went under myself. All I could see was Jensen. Jensen, taunting me, about how I was frigid, and how I wanted to take someone by force." He looked at her, and noticed that her expression was paling. "Except, it was never Jensen. It was me. What I was really dealing with were my projections of me."

She blinked. "Arthur-"

"Its true," Arthur spoke. "I got told at the age of 19 that I couldn't control my urges, that I wanted to take whatever I could. And I believed it. Somehow, I believed it completely. When Cobb told me about this job, I felt sick. A psychopathic killer who rapes and murders young women. Except, Lloyd is worse. He encourages other people to do it for him. He feeds off their own fears."

"Is that what you-" she couldn't finish the sentence.

"Is that what I what?" He looked at her directly.

"What you wanted to do to me?" her voice was faint, and she felt herself tremble.

He looked at her, his eyes widening in shock. Relinquishing his grip on the gun, he walked over, and cupped his hand under her chin. Tilting her face upwards, he met her eyes.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "No, I didn't. I don't. I said I'd protect you-" his thumb gently brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth - "and I meant it."

She looked at him. "Thank you." Her voice was barely perceptible. Swallowing, Arthur began to draw her face towards his, and their lips met.

Suddenly, a groan was heard from the figure on the bed.


	81. Chapter 81

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Eames!" Cobb shouted, his voice tense with anger and worry. "Eames! Stop!"

The Forger's footsteps slowed, then halted. He turned, looking at the Extractor. "Dom." He exhaled, heavily. "Dom, please, don't ask me to-"

"You can't just go," Cobb spoke forcefully. "Not after what you've - we've - been through."

Eames swallowed. "I'll be fine." He met the other man's eyes. "Dom, you knew that I was going to leave after we finished this job. You also knew that I thought it was too dangerous to expose the others' to. You knew that, and still I went along with it."

Cobb looked at the Forger. "Yes, I accept that. But Eames-"

"Its damaged him, Dom." Eames met Cobb's eyes. "Its damaged Arthur. There are things he's buried, that this has brought to the surface. Lloyd recognised that; he preyed on him. Think about it."

Cobb swallowed. "Eames, you can't mean-"

"Arthur is another one of Lloyd's victims," Eames interrupted. "He needs your help."

"And Fran?" Cobb could feel a slight rush of anger.

"She slept with Lloyd." Eames' voice was void of emotion. "She slept with that - maniac." He exhaled a shuddering breath, and ran his hand over his face. "I don't know-"

"Lloyd was a manipulative psychopath," Cobb snapped. "How do you know she wasn't fearing for her life?"

Eames looked at Cobb, biting his lip. "I don't." He swallowed. "Dom, I- I just need some space, ok?"

Cobb nodded, feeling numb. "OK." Rooted to the spot, he watched the Forger leave.

* * *

Ariadne stiffened, alerted by the groans. "Arthur-"

The Point Man was poised, with his gun. "Get behind me." She obeyed, her face pale.

He clicked the trigger. The other man turned his head, and fell silent. Arthur put the gun down, relaxing. Ariadne swallowed.

"What...was it?"

Arthur shook his head. "No idea. We need to get him to a hospital." He looked at her. "He's comatose. Practically vegetative."

"Where is his mind?" she half whispered.

Arthur shook his head, putting his gun back in its holster. "I have no idea. Limbo? Somewhere else?" He turned again to look at him. "He shot himself in the dream, and then in limbo I-" his voice faltered. Ariadne looked at him.

"What did you do?"

"I pushed him off the steps." Arthur's voice was barely a whisper. "I created a paradox."

She looked at him. "Arthur-"

"I know." He looked at her. Cobb doesn't know. Eames doesn't know. Fran doesn't know. I could have brought him back, Ariadne. I could have pulled him back, and we would have unlocked all his secrets. But I killed him in limbo." He shivered.

On impulse, she moved towards him, wrapping her arms around him. He reciprocated, pulling her close, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"So, what do we do now?"

Arthur looked at her, and then at the figure on the bed.

"We find a reason to call for help." He looked at his watch - the others had seemingly vanished. Biting back his irritation, he went to the landline, and dialled.

"Operator? Hello. Could I have an ambulance to 414 Roothouse Street, please?"

* * *

Fran stood, her anxiety increasing. She watched with a sinking heart as Cobb returned, without Eames.

"Where is-" her voice dissolved. The Extractor looked at her, biting his lip.

"He needs some space," he said, finally, his voice sounding flat. "I think we all do." He paused, unsure of what to say next. "I'll deal with Lloyd. Just go home, ok? Sleep."

She swallowed. "But what about-?"

"Fran." Cobb's voice held a slightly challenging note. "Please. Go home."

* * *

"What's the problem, Sir?"

"Its my neighbour." Arthur looked at the Architect, took a deep breath, and continued. "I haven't seen him for a few days. I let myself in, found him collapsed on the bed. He seems to be in a catatonic state."

"Any signs of consciousness?"

"No." Arthur swallowed, sweat prickling between his shoulder blades. "He has groaned."

"Probably a motor reflex." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I'll send an ambulance right away."

"Thank you." Arthur put the phone in the cradle. "Let's get out of here."

"What?" Ariadne blinked.

"You want to be here when the paramedics turn up?" Arthur shook his head. "Too many questions."

She nodded. "OK, let's go."

Feeling like a fugitive, she left behind the Point Man. As they left, they encountered Cobb. "You two-" he seemed unable to answer the question.

"We can't stay," Arthur said, his voice clipped. "Paramedics."

Cobb's mouth opened. "Art-"

"Its over." Arthur looked at Dom. "Its over. Let it go." He cleared his throat. "We know he pressured Ryan Caddick to murder his sister, and incited his wife to commit suicide. Its ."

Silently, the Extractor watched as the Point Man and Architect left the landing.

* * *

Eames pulled himself up onto a bar stool. It was empty. The bartender, a tired looking man who didn't seem to care if he was real or a cardboard cut out, plodded over. "Yeah?"

"Scotch." Eames asked. "Neat."

Within seconds, a glass of amber liquid was in front of him. Picking it up, he bolted it in one.

"Another?" the bartender asked.

Eames rubbed his forehead. The nightmare they'd been emeshed in was still in his head. "Why not?"

* * *

Ariadne looked uncertain as they stepped onto the street. Arthur looked at her. "Come on."

"Where are we-"

Arthur swallowed. "My place. The place I'm renting. Come on."

She nodded. Watched as he hailed a cab. She got in, sliding hesitantly next to him.

The ride was silent. Arthur didn't even look at her, and she shrank back. When they arrived, he paid the driver, and got out first. To her surprise, he opened the door for her.

"Come on."

She followed him upstairs. He unlocked the door, and opened it. As they entered, she heard him exhale. He turned to face her.

"Ari, listen, I-" he broke off, using his hand to reach for her cheek. "I-" his words were abruptly ended as she pulled him to her, into an embrace. As if bolstered by her gesture, he lifted her face, and kissed her.

She reciprocated. He kissed her, with more urgency. She responded, and began tugging at his shirt. Picking up on the signal, the Point Man responded by pulling her back, and directing her into the bedroom.

* * *

The paramedics entered, a young woman and slightly older man. "Hello?" she called out.

No response.

The man shook his head. "Crank call." He sounded irritated, the result of a ten hour shift. "Let's-"

Suddenly, a gasping, moaning sound was heard from the bedroom. They practically ran to it, only to find Rafe Lloyd, still unconscious, tossing and turning violently.

"Hold him still!" she commanded. Opening his pupils, she flicked on a tiny light. "No response." She shook her head. "Bizarre. its as though he's in a coma."

"What did the guy on the phone say?" the male paramedic demanded.

"That he'd found him like this." She reached for her breathing apparatus. "Restraints. Now!"

* * *

"Eames? Its Fran. Please call, I-"

She broke off. Rubbing her face, she switched off her cell phone, and tossed it onto the couch. Picking up her glass of water, she headed for the bedroom.

* * *

Arthur lay, peacefully. Ariadne was curled up under his arm, her head on his chest. He swallowed. Normally, he wouldn't have been so forward, so demanding, but it had felt so natural, so desired. He stroked her cheek with his fingers; she was asleep.

Arthur closed his eyes.

"_Fuck her."_

His eyes flicked open. Blinking, he tried to focus.

_"Fuck her. Take her now. Look at her, the little bitch! Lying there so innocent, teasing you, taunting you! See how she was practically stripping you naked as soon as you got in the door? Do it! Stick it to her RIGHT NOW!"_

Arthur sat bolt upright with a shocking jerk. His breathing was rapid, and shallow. He reached out to the bedside table, and grabbed his totem.

Correct weight. He was not in a dream. Shivering, he began to lie back down. Ariadne murmured, and cuddled up closer to his chest. He reached out, securing his arm around her. Closing his eyes, he tried to forget the hateful shriek of Rafe Lloyd's voice.


	82. Chapter 82

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed. He knew he had no business coming here. But he desperately needed to talk to someone. Someone who would understand.

Feeling resolute, he lifted his fist, and knocked on the door.

* * *

Eames swallowed another glass of scotch. He rubbed his face.

"Hey, buddy," the bartender said, approaching him. "Isn't it time you left?"

"One more," Eames muttered, thickly. He'd lost count, and no longer cared.

The bartender frowned. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Eames said, his voice suddenly turning cold. "Seriously."

* * *

Fran blinked. She'd fallen asleep, but as she looked at the clock, realised it had only been for half an hour. She sighed, and rolled over, closing her eyes.

Another knock. She frowned, burrowing her face deeper into the pillow. And another. She swallowed.

Ignoring them, she turned to her other side, and pulled the covers tighter.

* * *

Ariadne lay in bed. She couldn't believe what had just happened.

Arthur had sat up, bolt upright, in bed, clutching at the covers. She'd stirred, and finally, sat up herself. Her eyes had widened; he'd looked like a frightened child.

"Arthur," she'd whispered. "Arthur, its o-"

He'd ignored her. As though he were a man possessed. He'd grabbed the clothes that he'd left lying on the chair, and gone into the bathroom to change. Suddenly, she'd heard the front door bang.

He'd gone.

Shivering from cold, and also from shock, she pulled the covers around her. _He'll be back, _a little voice whispered. Closing her eyes, she tried to sleep.

* * *

Cobb sat motionless, in a chair in the lounge of his rented apartment. He felt numb, cold. He picked up the glass, and took a swig of scotch.

_We failed, _he told himself. He thought of Chandra Caddick's mother, and a shudder ran through him. He couldn't contact her. Couldn't find the words. They'd realised who was responsible for her death, but-

He closed his eyes. This case had been deeper, and more dangerous than he'd realised. Eames had been right. Arthur had been right. He'd put his team in danger, and nearly lost them. They'd been in the mind of a psychopath who manipulated other people into killing for him. Convinced a young woman's own brother to kill her. Slept with his sister in law, manipulated her.

Crawled into their minds.

Lodged himself there.

Cobb shivered. He'd damaged his team. Eames had walked; Ariadne appeared to be in shock; and Arthur- the Extractor closed his eyes. Arthur appeared to be a man tormented, unable to let go of the case.

He took a long swallow of scotch. Something was buried inside Arthur. He blinked, leaning forward. They'd gone deeper into Rafe, and deeper into Arthur. And he wasn't willing to come back.

Cobb took another swallow of scotch. To hell with it. To hell with them.

* * *

Arthur walked down the street. The city was bathed in a glow of neon light, which he barely noticed. Hands deep in his pockets, he walked, hoping to find an all night diner he could sit in until morning. As he walked, thoughts, memories, began to swirl inside his mind.

_"You - you think I tried to rape you?"_

_"You wanted it. Admit it."_

_"Yes, I wanted to have sex with you. But I wouldn't force you!"_

_"But Arthur, you were drunk. I was drunk. You took advantage."_

_"I didn't - I -"_

_"Oh, Arthur. You just take what you want, don't you?"_

* * *

Eames got up, finding his feet on the floor. He began to walk, steadily. He knew where he had to go.

* * *

_"Come on, you find me attractive?"_

_"Of course...you're the- sorry, shouldn't say that..."_

_"Say what?"_

_"You're very good looking, Arthur. Very."_

_"You're not bad yourself."_

_"Why, thank you."_

_"Listen, my roommate is away for the night..."_

_"Are you trying to take advantage of me?"_

_"Only if you want me to."_

_"I do. I do want you to."_

* * *

Fran swallowed. Another knock, penetrating her consciousness. She ignored it.

Another.

Realising they weren't going to leave, she began to sit up, half dragging herself across the bed. Tying on a loose robe, she walked to the door.

"Look," she said, her voice dulled with exhaustion, "whoever-"

She blinked. Eames was standing in front of her. Without saying a word, he pulled her into a kiss.

* * *

_"You're hurting me!"_

_"What? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"_

_"You did!"_

_"I just- I didn't realise that you were-"_

_"You're a pig, Arthur!"_

_"I didn't mean to, I swear!"_

_"You forced me into this!"_

_"I didn't! You agreed!"_

_"Did I?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"Now your threatening me!"_

_"I'm - what?"_

_"You bastard! Get out of my way!"_

* * *

He climbed the steps. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

_"Mr Ogilvie, you are accused of date raping a young woman. What do you have to say?"_

_"I didn't. She consented. So did I."_

_"Had you been drinking?"_

_"Yes."_

_"So, you weren't able to make a clear judgement?"_

_"She'd been drinking to-"_

_"I asked you. Were you able to make a clear judgement?"_

_"I-"_

_"No."_

* * *

"Thank you for coming back."

"Thank you for taking me in."

* * *

_"Rape is a very destructive crime, Arthur."_

_"I know, but I didn't-"_

_"A key element of a rapists mind is denial."_

_"I don't have the mind of a rapist!"_

_"But you forced a young woman into sex. You coerced her. Correct?"_

_"No, she was drunk, I was drunk-"_

_"You took advantage of a vulnerable young woman."_

_"She agreed!"_

_"Arthur. I'm worried about you. This persistent denial is in accordance with trends towards psycopathia. An inability to empathise. An inability to-"_

_"I'm NOT a rapist!"_

_"Arthur. I'm afraid the board does not agree with you."_

* * *

Negotiating his way in was easy. The story about being the man's brother had been accepted by thr exhausted looking night nurse. He walked the corridor, purposefully.

* * *

_"I think this is the end of your college career."_

_"They're letting me sit my finals."_

_"You don't understand. No-one will touch you with a barge pole."_

_"This wasn't my fault."_

_"Arthur, you're in denial. Please, get help."_

* * *

Buried inside. A traumatic event, that ends up shaping your life in a way you never thought possible. The Point Man continued to walk the corridor, unwelcome memories mixed with his steadfast belief in what he had to do.

Eventually, he reached the room. Walking in, he noted the faint hiss of breathing apparatus, the green blink of the heart monitor. His eyes turned to the figure in the bed.

Arthur looked down into the motionless face. Pale as alabaster, with black hair hooked behind the ears. He felt a wave of revulsion as he leaned over the still form.

"Hello, Rafe."

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	83. Chapter 83

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur took a deep breath. The other man looked almost vulnerable. He swallowed, and opened his mouth.

"Rafe, I'm going to do something which you're not going to like." His voice was calm, and he pulled the PASIV out of the black leather case he'd been carrying. "I need to go back into your mind. Because you never really told us the answer to the question that we all wanted. How did Chandra die, and where? You could have told us anything. You hinted at it in the extractions. But you were more interested in torturing me."

He laid the PASIV on the bed, and clicked open the sleek metal case. He deftly pulled out an IV, and plugged it into the pale arm. He looked at the other man.

"I'm going to have to bring you back from limbo," he informed him. "I'm going to be going into your memories." He swallowed, and grabbed hold of his totem, checking it was the correct weight. "Because Cobb never realised. You'd never give it up. Its only in your memories we could extract."

He pulled out the other IV, and attached it to his own arm. Swallowing he checked the timer and the curtains. Settling back, he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Hey, have you that compound I ordered?"

Arthur looked up. An office. A nice, clean, modern office. He realised - this was the lab where Rafe and Chandra had worked. He looked at his watch - exactly ten years ago.

"Memories," he muttered to himself. "I'm in your memories." He stood up, noticing how his suit was now concealed with a white lab coat. He turned and looked as a young woman hurried towards the open door of the lab.

"Rafe! Mr Lloyd!"

A man stepped out. Another Rafe - this time, ten years younger, with a look of almost playful gleefulness about him. He grinned as he took the offered tray.

"Your compound," she said, flirtatiously.

"Why, thank you!" He bowed, and Arthur watched this interaction with a sense of disquiet. Was this palyful, almost gentle Rafe the twisted psychopath he'd encountered? Swallowing, he continued to watch.

"Oh, by the way," Rafe said, casually, "you haven't forgotten - tonight?"

"No," she blushed. "I haven't." She smiled. "I look forward to it!"

"OK, Chandra, I'll see you later." He grinned, and turned. Arthur blinked, then noticed he was walking, heading to an elevator. Swallowing, he followed him, making a careful note as Rafe went down a floor.

* * *

The doors opened. Arthur walked out, realising he was now in a modern apartment block. Music was coming from behind one of the doors. He walked to it, and noting the door was ajar, pushed it open.

Rafe was in his apartment, humming along to the rock CD that was playing in the stereo. He was shirtless, clad only in black leather jeans. Smiling, he leaned over a mirror, pressed one finger to a nostril, and snorted.

Arthur blinked. Cocaine. _That would account for the psychosis,_ he thought wryly.

Rafe disappeared back into the bedroom. Seizing his chance, Arthur pushed open the door, and walked through the hallway into the lounge. He could hear the sounds of a closet door opening, and what sounded like someone wrestling with material. Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door. Arthur, looking from side to side, walked into the kitchen. Pulling the door to, he watched, and waited.

A young woman had appeared. Arthur blinked - he recognised her. _Fran._

"Making another conquest?" Her voice was cold.

"Of course." Rafe turned and looked at her.

"You don't waste time," the woman commented, acidly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm sorry, Francesca, but your sister has been gone nearly a year." He shrugged. "I need to get out, I can't stay in mourning for ever."

"You are-"

"Oh, save it." He arched an eyebrow. "Sure this isn't your own guilt talking?" He smiled. "Do you remember that night we had together? You were wild, completely."

She looked at him. "Of course I do." To Arthur's astonishment, she put her hand on his cheek. "But she's my sister, and I was-"

"Look, Fran, I know that we could be together." His voice was gentle. "But, its not the right time. And I have to go."

She left, Arthur fingered his totem. Not the correct weight. He was still in the dream. Swallowing, he watched as Rafe left, following her.

* * *

Arthur blinked. The apartment had gone. He was standing by a lake. _Lake Boynton_, he remembered. He was wearing a trenchcoat over his suit, and shivering slightly, thrust his hands into his pockets.

Rafe was standing by the lake, with a young woman. Chandra. He had his arm casually slung around her shoulders.

"Now, you know why we're here, don't you?" he asked, teasingly. She blushed. "Of course."

"I brought you here because its safe." Rafe smiled, and cocked an eyebrow. "Safe, and private."

She smiled. "Its very romantic."

"Not exactly what I have in mind." Rafe's smile was starting to take on a sadistic smirk. Arthur, from the bushes, shivered. "You do know that we're not alone, don't you?"

Chandra's smile started to fade. "What?"

"Your brother is here." Rafe turned, and then roared through the trees, _"Ryan!"_

A rustle of leaves, and Ryan Caddick appeared. Arthur noted he was the young man who had tried to chat to him at the gay bar. He hunkered down, his eyes never leaving the scene.

"You do know that you nearly walked in on us, don't you?" Rafe said, his fingers caressing Chandra's chin. "And I know that your mother, she-"

Chandra's face wsa paling. "I - I-"

"I invited you here," Rafe said, coldly, "for a specific purpose." He turned to Ryan. "You know what you have to do."

Ryan looked at Rafe. "Rafe, I don't-"

"Kill her," the dark haired man demanded. "Do I have to do everything my fucking self?"

"I- I-" the younger man stammered. "Rafe, I-"

"Jesus Christ!" Rafe exploded. "Its easy! All you have to do, is this-" Arthur felt himself shudder as the older man punched Chandra hard, in the mouth. She staggered backward, a trial of blood falling down her chin. "And again-" he dealt another blow to her, this time knocking her off her feet. She fell to the floor. Rafe glared at Ryan.

"See how easy it is?" He sneered, kicking her hard in her abdomen. "Now, will you just finish it? Or do you want more of the same?"

Ryan looked, hesitantly. "I could-" he walked over to her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "But-"

"Stop!"

Both men looked over. To Arthur's astonishment, Fran pushed her way through the bushes. She glared at Rafe.

"Leave her alone."

Rafe smiled, and took a step forward. "Or you'll what?"

"I'll have you arrested." She glared at him. "What you're doing to her, you did to my sister."

Rafe shrugged. "Actually, I didn't do this to Mia." He looked at Fran. "Sure you didn't drive her to leave by fucking me? Just a thought."

Her face quivered, and then straighted. "Shut up."

"Can't stand the truth?" He smiled, cruelly. "You remember that couple I was friends with? Want to know where they are?"

She looked at him. "You-"

"Yes," he said, softly. "I did it. I confess. But I didn't kill your sister. In the same way I'm not going to kill her." He looked back at Chandra, who was whimpering softly. "That's her brother's job."

Ryan stepped forward. "Rafe, I-"

Rafe pulled a gun out of his pocket, and pointed it directly at Fran. "Do it. Or I kill her as well." He looked at Ryan. "And then, I'll kill you." His face was impassive. "Plenty of things can go wrong out here at night, hmm?"

Ryan swallowed. "Rafe, she's my-"

Rafe cocked his head. "Wrong answer." With one movement, he shot Ryan, in his lower leg. The younger man screamed.

"Unless you want-"

"No, no!" Half sobbing with the pain, Ryan moved forward, limping with the pain. Cassandra was on the floor. Rafe smiled, and handed him the gun. "Do it."

Ryan pressed the gun to his sister's temple. With one movement, the gun went off, and she slumped to the floor.

"Good," Rafe said, coldly. "Here, let me finish this."

With one deft movement, he pulled Chandra's jacket off her limp form, and tied it round her head. Then, he picked up her body, and dumped it in the lake.

"Job done," he said, smirking. "Oh wait, one more thing."

Pulling off his jacket, he tied it around Ryan's leg. "Should stem the bleeding," he said, tenderly. Arthur's jaw dropped, astonished. Suddenly, Rafe turned. Fran was running.

"I'll let you go," he muttered. "But I can use you later." He turned to Ryan. "Oh, my poor baby." There was a gentle, crooning sound in his voice. "See what the little bitch made me do? We are so much better off without her."

* * *

Arthur blinked. He gasped, and sat up. His head was swimming with the memory he had just immersed himself in. Then, he felt his blood begin to freeze.

Ryan was standing in front of him. Holding a gun, and pointing it directly at the Point Man's face.

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you! **


	84. Chapter 84

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the long delay, only a couple more chapters to go!**

"Put the gun down," Arthur said, his voice calm, his heart racing.

"Shut up!" Ryan snapped. "Say another word, without my permission, and that pretty face of yours will be such a mess not even a plastic surgeon will be able to help."

Arthur nodded. "Point taken."

"Good." Ryan took another step forward, the gun unwavering in his hand. "What were you doing to Rafe?"

"I was discovering the truth." Arthur locked eyes with the other man. He could see the mania in Ryan's face. And fear.

"The truth?" Ryan swallowed. "What truth?"

"The truth about what happened to Chandra." Arthur's voice was calm. "What you and Rafe did."

Ryan exhaled slowly. "What we did?" He blinked, and his eyes narrowed. "I know exactly what we did."

"You killed her." Arthur looked at him. "You-"

"I said I know what we did," Ryan said, harshly. "But when you're in love, you'll do what you need to do to protect it."

"You were in love with Rafe?"

"I still am in love with him." Ryan looked at the prone figure on the bed. "He was my life. And then my little bitch of a sister found out, and threatened to ruin it."

"How?"

"By telling our parents." Ryan looked directly at Arthur. "By telling our good, Catholic parents, that I'm gay. She had to be stopped."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Little extreme, don't you think?"

Ryan shook his head. "No. Do you really think I was going to be forced into giving Rafe up. Going into a nice lavender marriage. No way."

"He's a psychopath." Arthur looked at him.

"So?" Ryan said, coldly. "What is a psychopath? Someone who has no feeling for others, or someone who just accepts that people will always let you down, and the best way is to get rid of them?"

Arthur shook his head. "You have a twisted way of-"

"Shut up!" Ryan demanded. "Answer a question."

Arthur swallowed. "What?"

"What did you do to Rafe?" Ryan's eyes were narrowing, dangerously. "What did you do?"

"If I tell you," Arthur said, calmly, "will you stop pointing that gun at my face?"

"Of course." Ryan lowered the gun, aiming for Arthur's lower leg. "Killing you will make it easy. But threatening to injure you - might make you more adaptable. Put your hands together, in front."

Arthur complied, careful not to antagonise the other man. Ryan walked forward, fishing something out of his pocket. Arthur swallowed. Rope. He stood while the other man lashed it round his wrists, containing them.

"OK," Ryan said, simling. "We're going on a little trip. Walk in front. Don't do anything stupid."

* * *

Ariadne blinked. She rolled over, and her hand hit the empty side of the bed. "Arthur?" she murmured. Frowning, she got up, and began to wander into the front room of the apartment.

* * *

Eames stroked Fran's side. She smiled, and he leaned over and kissed her. "You ok?" he murmured. She nodded. He pulled her close.

"Eames," Fran mumbled, "this case-"

"Its over," Eames said, quietly. "Rafe Lloyd is trapped in his own head. Forever. We'll never discover the truth." He kissed her again. "But we could get Arthur some therapy. He does seem badly affected."

Fran bit her lip. "Arthur- there's something in his past which this is triggering. Sexual violence, or abuse."

"Arthur? abused?" Eames blinked.

"No," she said, quietly. "I mean Arthur perceives himself as capable of it."

Eames whistled. "Never thought of that."

* * *

Arthur swallowed. He had been ordered to lie down in the back of the car. Ryan was not a careful driver - ever road bump he seemed to hit with malicous force. He felt the car roar with acceleration, and suddenly knew where they were going.

The lake.

* * *

"Eames," Fran said, quietly, "there is something I need to tell -" She stopped. A harsh buzzing noise was filling the air. Eames pulled a face. "Sorry."

He rolled out of the bed, and fished his cellphone out of his jacket pocket. "H'lo? Ariadne? What's wrong? No, he isn't with me. I-" he stopped.

Fran looked at him. "What is it?"

"It was Ariadne," Eames said, lookign puzzled. "Apparently she and Arthur were together, and he - got up and left..." He shook his head. "Very odd."

Fran looked at him. "No, its not." She pushed herself out of bed. "I think we need to get dressed."

"What?"

"Eames." Fran looked at him. "Arthur is troubled by this case. Where would he go?"

Eames looked at her, his jaw dropping slightly. "To Lloyd?" He blinked. "Oh, God, do you think he's planning to kill him?"

Fran's jaw was set. "That's what worried me. We need to find him. Call Dom."

* * *

"OK. Get out."

Arthur complied, and his feet hit soft, marshy ground. The edge of the lake. He swallowed. He couldn't reach his totem, but he knew that this wasn't a dream. The sharp coldness of the gun pressing into the small of his back was proof enough.

"Walk."

The Point Man did so. His mind was racing with how he could run.

"Stop."

Ryan looked at him, his face quizzical. Then, it cleared. "Tell me, Arthur. Is there someone special in your life?"

Arthur swallowed. "Whats it to you?"

Ryan lowered the gun. "Tell me the truth. Or I will bury a bullet in the small of your back, and then simply drive away. And when you're found, you'll probably be half dead from paralysis, and hypothermia." He looked at him. "Tell me the truth."

"Yes," Arthur said, hesitantly. "There is." He glared at Ryan. "Don't you dare hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her," Ryan said, smoothly. "What her name?"

Arthur looked at him. "Ariadne."

"Excellent." Ryan fished out his cellphone. "Number?"

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"What's her fucking cell phone number?" Ryan said, his voice ice. "Tell me. Now!"

Arthur swallowed. "02456 345879".

"Thank you." Ryan punched in the number, then held it to Arthur's ear. "Tell her you're at a romantic location, and you want her to meet you. Tell her to come immediately."

Arthur blinked. "Why?"

"Because," Ryan almost snarled, "its retribution. You killed my boyfriend. I don't know exactly what you did, but you sent him into a coma, and he'll never come back to me. All because my stupid, pathetic mother, has to know what happened to my equally stupid, pathetic sister! Because both of them wouldn't let me love the man I wanted!"

"You killed your own sister," Arthur said, "because Rafe brainwashed you into thinking it was the only thing you could do. And you want me to kill Ariadne because-" he shuddered.

"No," Ryan said, his eyes glinting. "You'll see what its like to actually lose someone you love. I'm going to kill her. Make her beg for her life. While you watch. And then, I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to throw both your bodies into the lake. Forever."

"We have friends, we'll be-"

"No you won't," Ryan snapped. "My sister laid at the bottom of this lake for ten years, until you decided to bring her up again."

"Yes," Arthur said, nodding. "Because your mother was motivated out of love. When you killed Chandra, you were motivated out of fear."

Ryan held up the phone. "I'm going to press the ring button. And then, you are going to say, "Hey, -" he glared at Arthur. "You know what to say."

Arthur nodded. "I do."

* * *

Ariadne bit her lip. Anxiety was settling in. She flicked her bishop - it fell with a thunk. Reality.

Suddenly, her cellphone buzzed. She picked it up. "Hello?"

"Ari? Arthur. Listen, I'm sorry, I went out, I would like you to meet me somewhere."

She frowned. "Meet you?"

His voice sounded throaty. "Its a surprise. Something romantic. Humour me, ok?"

* * *

Fran locked her apartment door. She nodded at Eames. "My car is outside."

The Forger started to hurry down the stairs. Suddenly, he stopped. His phone was buzzing again. Cursing with irritation, he pulled it free. "Hello? Ariadne? What? You're what? OK."

He clicked off. Fran looked at him. "What is it?"

"She just heard from Arthur," he said, looking puzzled. "Apparently he was planning a romantic surprise at the lake."

"The lake?" Fran repeated. Suddenly, her face froze. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"Eames, we have to go to the lake. Lake Boynton. Call Dom. How quickly we get there might be the difference between Arthur living or dying."

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	85. Chapter 85

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"Move there," Ryan ordered. "Just there." He lowered the gun, aiming it at Arthur's stomach. "Perfect."

Arthur looked at him. "Next move?"

"Its very simple." Ryan's voice was taut. "As soon as the little bitch turns up, you pretend to be really happy to see her. Then, you order her to get to her knees. And then, you tell her she has about five minutes left. And then, you kill her."

Arthur looked at him, despair beginning to fuel his anger. "And if I don't?"

Ryan looked at him. "I kill her. And then, I kill you."

Arthur swallowed. "OK."

Ryan's eyes were emotionless. "Yes, Arthur. It will be ok."

* * *

Cobb sipped his scotch, his mind in a whirl. The case was over; they'd failed. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"End of the team," he muttered. He doubted Eames would work with him again; he equally doubted Arthur would. It was over. Finished. He felt defeated, old, tired. Closing his eyes, he let the scotch fall from his hand, spilling over the rug.

Suddenly, there was a bang at the door. "Dom! Dom!"

Cobb blinked, and sat up. He rubbed his forehead, and careful not to step in the spreading liquid, walked to the door. "All right, I'm coming!"

He unlatched, and pulled it open. Eames and Fran stood before him.

"Eames?" Cobb swallowed; he was beginning to feel bewildered. "What are you-"

"Ryan has Arthur," Eames said, urgently. "Ryan, Rafe's lover!"

Cobb blinked. "How - what?"

"He must have gone to the hospital to see Rafe," Fran commented, "and Ryan was waiting for him."

"So where are they?"

"The Lake." Fran looked at the two men. "They're at the lake. Waiting." She swallowed. Cobb blinked - he guessed who they were waiting for.

"Ariadne," he breathed. "Holy shit."

"I warned you," Eames said, his eyes beginning to flash. "I warned you that-"

"Save it for later!" The Extractor snapped. "We have to find them, before someone dies." Without bothering to look at the other two, he walked straight to the door and out.

* * *

Ariadne paid the cab driver, and hopped out. The older man looked at her, curiously.

"You going to be ok?" his tone was concerned.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she said, with a carefree attitude that she didn't feel. "I'm meeting my boyfriend."

He nodded, uncertainly, and drove off. She swallowed, and began to walk towards the lake. "Arthur?"

Silence. She took a deep breath, and then tried again. "Arthur? Are you there?"

"I'm over here," a voice called back. Feeling she reassured, she began to walk forwards.

* * *

Arthur swallowed. Ryan nudged him with the gun. "Off you go. You two are a pair of little lambs to the slaughter."

Arthur turned to him. "And you're the big bad wolf." He regretted it as soon as it was out of his mouth. Ryan's eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, were beginning to gleam.

Ryan smirked. "I am, Bambi." Arthur began to freeze - he'd heard that nickname before.

"Wait," he said, turning, "what did you call me?"

"Bambi." Ryan smirked at him. "Its very cute. Rafe thought of it for you the minute we clapped eyes on you at that gay bar. Something to do with those big brown eyes, and legs."

Arthur swallowed. "Thank you for the compliment."

"My pleasure. Now, when she meets you, I want you to kiss her. Not gently. Roughly. Make her feel as though you're strong, and in control. Appeal to her inner nature. Make her think you're going to have wild sex here by the lake."

Arthur looked at Ryan, fury boiling in him. "You have to drag it down to the most base level, don't you?"

"Arthur." Ryan's voice was soft. "If you didn't think of this at times, you wouldn't be critical. You've thought of this, of taking her, slamming it into her, making her cry, weep, and beg. Haven't you?"

Arthur kept his mouth closed. He didn't look at the other man. "Maybe."

"Well, now's the time to prove it."

* * *

Eames drove. Cobb, sitting beside him, stared out of the window, fixedly. No one spoke.

* * *

"Arthur?"

Arthur swallowed, and stepped out of the foilage. "Ari!" Opening his arms, he took her in them. "Oh, so good to see you!" Before she could move, he kissed her, applying a forcible pressure to her mouth. She gasped slightly as he pulled away.

"Arthur, what-"

"Come on," he said, silkily, gently rubbing her face with his thumb. "Its beautiful out here. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Do it. Here. Right now."

"Arthur..." Ariadne laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Arthur, are you serious?"

"Yes!" The Point Man looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "Right here, right now!" He began to nuzzle her neck, and pull roughly at her clothing. She started; then gave him a shove.

"Arthur! What are you doing?" She began to move away, her face tightening. "I can't believe that you-"

"That I what?" Arthur practically snarled, his voice roughening. "I'm a man, I like it like this! Whats wrong, can't you take it?"

"Just-" she turned. "Just-"

Suddenly, she froze. Ryan stepped out, holding a gun. "I would stay still," he said, his tone glacial. "You're not going anywhere."

Ariadne swallowed, the muscles in her neck constricting. "OK."

"Strip." Ryan's voice was calm. "Strip, now."

Her fingers trembling, they moved to the collar of the shirt she'd hastily thrown on. Arthur looked at her. Suddenly, she saw the pain and distress on his face. She blinked.

"Arrth-"

"Shut up!" Ryan practically screamed. "Otherwise, I will kill both of you!" He nodded to Arthur. "Here, take this!"

Arthur blinked. At his feet, lay a spool of rope. Ryan nodded. "Around her neck. Now!"

* * *

"Can you hear anything?" Eames whispered.

Cobb nodded. "Yes, I can." He jerked his head. "That direction."

Fran, remaining silent, followed them.

* * *

"Put it around her neck." Ryan glared at Arthur. "And do it now!"

Arthur swallowed. "I'm sorry." He whispered to Ariadne. "I'm so sorry." Putting it round her neck, he blinked.

"Thats right, Arthur," Ryan jeered. "You're about to squeeze the life out of her. She'll be yours forever."

Arthur was silent.

"So how does it feel to-"

"Stop it."

Ryan stopped, startled. Arthur looked over to see Cobb, with Eames and Fran following him. The killer turned, the gun seemingly frozen in his hand.

"Well, well," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Look who it is." He turned to Arthur. "Shame one of you is about to die."

"Ryan!" Fran's voice carried over the others. "Ryan, don't do this! You will go down for this!"

Ryan looked at her. "Really?" He smirked. "Well, if I'm going to go down for anything-" aiming the gun, he fired. The rest of the group looked on, horrified, as Fran's body slumped to the ground.

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	86. Chapter 86

**Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus with this fic!**

Arthur felt his blood begin to freeze. Fran was lying on the ground, completely still. All he could hear was the restricted breathing of the others. This was turning into a nightmare, one they could never wake up from.

"Whose next?"

The words were a casual taunt, but they caused something to snap within Eames. With a scream of rage, the Forger charged at the younger man, only for Cobb and Arthur to try and restrain him.

"Eames!" Cobb hissed. "Don't! If you do-"

Eames was practically snarling. The look on his face made the Point Man shiver. Suddenly, a soft choking noise was heard. Cobb swallowed, and nodded at Arthur, who began to release Eames' arm.

"Go to her," he heard Cobb whisper, softly. The Forger turned, seemingly not caring if Ryan shot him in the back. Arthur heard Eames kneeling down next to the wounded psychiatrist. "Fran? Sweetheart?"

Arthur heard her whimper. The sound tore through him. Eames was choking.

"Is this what you intended?" his voice was sharp, and bitter. "Because if you wanted to kill someone, you probably succeeded."

"I intend to kill all of you," Ryan said, his voice rising, which indicated to Arthur the man was losing the little self control he had. "After what you did to Rafe-"

"He brought it on himself," Arthur snapped. "Being a killer tends to get you unwanted attention!"

"It does." Ryan smirked. "And now I'm giving you some!"

Before Arthur could blink, he'd raised the gun again. Suddenly, the Point Man realised - he was pointing the gun at Ariadne, who was standing next to him. Without thinking, he pushed her, sending her reeling onto the floor, as the gun fired. He turned - the bullet had missed her, and embedded itself in a tree.

Ryan stared at him, wide eyed. Then, without warning, he turned and ran.

Arthur made a decision. He began to run after him.

* * *

"Fran, can you-" Eames' voice trailed off; the Forger felt utterly helpless. "Fran, sweetheart, please-"

She coughed. "Its my..." she paused, her breathing sounding laboured. "Its my shoulder, I can't feel it."

Eames collapsed. "Christ." He looked at her, then Cobb. "Not a good shot, is he?"

Ariadne turned. "Eames, please."

"Sorry," the Forger mumbled. He turned back to Fran. "Can you try and sit up?"

"Come on," Cobb said gently. "We'll help you." The two men managed to get her into a sitting position. Her face was ghostly pale, and she was trying hard not to move her arm. She looked at them, her eyes filled with shock and pain. Eames leaned over, and began to gently press his hand over the wound. She flinched.

"With any luck," he said, softly, "it will have missed the bone."

She nodded, her face revealing the fresh wave of agony the movement sent.

Ariadne looked at the small group, and bit her lip. Making a decision, she began to move in the direction Arthur and Ryan had gone.

* * *

Arthur stopped, and took a deep breath. Ryan had sprinted - and the foilage was thick, and overhanging. The Point Man began to steel his resolve. He would find him. He had to.

He put his hand in his pocket. No, the die was the correct weight. Reality. Exhaling slowly, he began to move through the trees, listening.

The rustle of the leaves in the night breeze caused him to look behind him, and he cursed himself. He couldn't afford to be jumpy. Ryan was dangerous - more dangerous than Rafe. Rafe killed merely because he enjoyed using others. Ryan had a motivation.

Love.

Suddenly, Arthur realised. Ryan was trying to protect Rafe, as he was trying to protect Ariadne. He rubbed his face. "He's motivated by love," he muttered. "I'd be the same."

He blinked. He was the same. Love, hate, guilt...they were interconnected.

This case had stirred up so many memories. Memories of things he wanted to forget, the accusation that he carried with him for the rest of his life. But Ariadne...Ariadne was real, someone he had to protect. Someone he-

"Dreaming, Bambi?"

The words hit him like a slap. He whirled round, only to realise that the lengthening, darkening shadows were making it impossible to see anything clearly. He squinted, and realised he could just make out a dim shape. He kept his hand around his gun, keeping it ready.

* * *

Ariadne bit her lip. She was listening for their voices. She knew she would be able to recognise Arthur's. She kept still, letting the leaves rustle overhead. Then, she heard. Men's voices. Both low, but both charged with anger.

Keeping her courage together, she moved forward.

* * *

"You do realise, this isn't a dream? When I shoot you, its going to hurt, and you're not going to wake up."

Arthur swallowed. Every sinew was straining to pull the trigger.

"You realise," he said, his voice staying calm, "that Rafe is never going to wake up? He's currently lying in limbo?"

"Yes." Ryan's voice held a note of taunting. "And as you sent the one I love to limbo, I think its only fair I do it to the one you love. And guess what, Arthur? She's stupid enough to come looking for you. Just listen."

* * *

Ariadne paused. She was sure she heard her name mentioned. Swallowing, she took another step forward.

* * *

"Why don't you just kill me?" Arthur's voice was calm. "Thats what you want. So just do it."

Ryan's lip curled. "You make it too easy for me."

"Arthur?"

The Point Man blinked. Ariadne's voice floated out, the concern making it sound more high pitched. "Arthur?"

Ryan turned, and noticed her shadow. He moved forward, and grabbed her arm, pulling her in front of him. As he moved, the clouds opened, illuminating the two of the them. Arthur almost choked with fury. He was holding his arm across her chest, and pointing the gun directly at her head.

Arthur swallowed. Without wavering, he lifted his own gun, and pointed it.

"I wouldn't." Ryan's voice was taunting. "I'll just move her, and you'll put a bullet in her brain. The last thing she'll see whilst alive is her boyfriend shooting her. Thats the last thing she'll see. Makes perfect sense."

"You wouldn't," Arthur hissed.

"I would." Ryan's voice was glacial. "After what you did to Rafe, I-"

Arthur took a step forward. "He brought it on himself."

"And you're about to bring this on yourself, Arthur." The Point Man heard the gun being clicked. "You asked for-"

Arthur had heard enough. Lowering his gun, making out the slight shape of Ariadne and the longer outline of Ryan, he fired. He heard a slight squeal from the Architect, and a yelp of pain from Ryan.

"Ariadne!" Arthur shouted. "Run, now!"

As the clouds shifted, the light illuminating them, he saw her elbow Ryan, and push him away. By the stance of the other man, he could tell that he had shot him in the thigh. The Architect moved to the side, and Arthur fired again. The gasping sound indicated the abdomen. Raising the gun for a third time, he unloaded a bullet in the other man's chest. A choking, gurgling sound emanated from Ryan, and he saw him wobble, and then slowly collapse.

The only sound was the ragged breathing of both himself and Ariadne. He turned, and before he could speak, she had rushed into his arms. He tightened his grip round her. She was shaking, and as he heard her sob, he realised his own tears were running down his face, into her hair. He let her fold into his body, and wind her arms around him. A rush of love, and tenderness, surged through him.

"Its ok," he whispered, feeling her press against his chest. "I promise you, Ari. Its going to be ok."

**Reviews always appreciated. Thank you!**


	87. Chapter 87

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the fact its been nearly a month since this was updated, but I had no idea how to finish a fic that sprawled, dipped, went on tangents. This is the last chapter, and those of you who have been reading, reviewing, and also adding this to alerts and favourites - thank you. I mean it. **

Arthur shuddered. The sheer enormity of what had happened, what he'd done, what they'd all been participating in, was starting to sink in. He stared at the body of Ryan, which was lying prone and vulnerable before him.

He bit his lip. "Jesus," he whispered, softly. The sound of his voice frightened him.

He became aware of a warm arm winding its way tightly around his waist. He looked down, noticing the Architect. She held him tightly. "It is over," she whispered.

He nodded. "Not quite." He bit his lip. "I can't imagine how we're going to explain this to the police. Any of it. All of it."

She looked at him. "We'll have to deal with it."

Hearing her be so pragmatic made him smile. The first genuine smile he'd had since the case had begun. Shivering, he pulled her closer, and began walking towards the rest of the group.

Before they'd had a chance to move far, they heard footsteps. When he saw who it was, Arthur breathed with relief. Cobb. He swallowed, prepared to explain. "Cobb, listen, I-"

The Extractor stopped dead in his tracks. "You-"

Arthur nodded. "Self-defence." He looked at the older man. "That can be the reason we give to the police. Simple as that."

"What about Chandra?" Cobb demanded. The primary reason for the case was back at the forefront of the Extractor's mind.

"She's at the bottom of the lake," Arthur said, pointing. "They can dredge it. And they'll find her."

Cobb looked at him. "And when do we tell the Police this?"

"We tell them when we've got Fran to a hospital." Arthur licked his bottom lip. "Come on."

Cobb turned, and stared as the Point Man and Architect, their arms firmly wrapped around each other, walked towards the others. Shaking his head, he began to hurry to join them.

* * *

Ariadne shifted, letting Arthur join her. As he curled himself round her, she suddenly felt a surge of honesty. "Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think-" she paused, wondering how she could phrase the next statement. "Do you feel this case was successful?" She cringed as it left her mouth - it sounded so banal, so trite. Anxiously, she waited for his response.

Arthur closed his eyes. "No." His words sounded flat, heavy. "No, its probably the worst case we've ever been involved in. I should never have agreed to it, never have let Cobb convince us to join it."

She rolled over. "Why?"

Arthur sighed, regretting that he let this conversation begin. "Because we've been in the mind of a psychopath." He shuddered. "And I have admitted things about myself which I never wanted anyone to know about." He looked at her. "You found out I was accused of rape, and thrown out of Yale. I found out that I always thought I was decent, and yet I-"

He stopped, and she looked at him, feeling slightly astonished. Arthur's shoulders were beginning to shake, and he was starting to sob. Startled, she reached out, and touched him. "Its going to be ok," she whispered, pulling him close as he was wracked with sobs. "Its going to be ok."

He leaned his head on her shoulder. She pulled him close, letting him give release to the emotions that had been building throughout the course of the case. She closed her eyes. "You're not him, Arthur," she whispered. "Believe me."

He turned to her. "Ari, I-" leaning over, he kissed her deeply, finding his way through the tears. As she pulled him close, it suddenly felt as though they were alone, finally.

* * *

"So, this is how it worked." Arthur rubbed his forehead, and looked at the rest of the team. There was no trace of the tears he'd given vent to the previous night. He was clad in a fresh suit, and looked a professionally polished as before. Swallowing, he waited for their attention.

"Ryan Caddick and Rafe Lloyd are lovers, Chandra finds out, Rafe encourages Ryan to kill her. He also kills his wife, who happens to be Fran's sister, and Fran and Rafe have a brief affair." He heard a slightly wounded noise emit from Eames, and winced. "Sorry."

"So Rafe kills his wife." Ariadne finishes. Arthur shook his head. "Not exactly. He encouraged her to commit suicide...by having an affair." He carefully ommited Fran's name.

"What about Jensen?" Cobb demanded.

"A patsy," Arthur sighed. "Set up to take the rap. But his mind has been destroyed. All we have, the only thing we know is where those bodies are. At the bottom of the lake."

"So what do we tell Mrs Caddick?" Eames asked. "Her son's in hospital, on a ventilator."

Arthur looked at him. "We tell her were to find Chandra. Thats what matters."

"And Lloyd will never face justice." Cobb sighed and rubbed his forehead. "By killing himself whilst in limbo." He shook his head. "A comatose vegetable."

Arthur shrugged. "Not the ending I would have chosen for him, but still."

* * *

Cobb looked at Arthur as they stood on the doorstep. Arthur was adjusting his suit jacket. "Ready?"

Nodding, Cobb pushed the doorbell. After a few moments, Mrs Caddick came to the door. She looked at them both, in astonishment. "Well..." her voice faltered. "I..."

"Mrs Caddick, I know we're the last people you want to see, so I'll make this brief." Arthur's tone was authorative, forcing Cobb into silence. "Ask the police to dredge the lake. And that will tell you everything you need to know."

She nodded, paling. "And your payment-?"

"Forget it," Arthur said, as he turned and walked down the steps. Cobb followed, silent.

* * *

Fran looked up as Arthur approached. She was propped up in bed. "Hi," she greeted him.

"Hey." He pulled a chair up to next to her, and nodded. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed. "I've been better." She looked down at her lap. "Arthur, listen to me. This case..."

"Has been hell," Arthur finished. "The type of case I never want to be involved in again." He met the psychiatrists' eyes. "You were trying to solve this out of guilt, weren't you? Because of what happened to Mia."

She nodded. "Yes. I wanted to bring Rafe to justice, but never had the evidence."

"We still never will." Arthur rubbed his face. "He decided to end it himself. And as for Ryan-"

"He could still survive." She nodded. "But, Arthur-"

"Yes?" He was getting up to leave.

"Whatever issues you have, face them." Her voice was quiet. "You were motivated to solve this to prove something to yourself."

He nodded. "You're right. I was." He looked at her. "Fran. Be gentle with Eames, ok?"

She smiled. "I will be."

* * *

As Arthur walked along the corridor, he passed by another sign. Neurological ICU. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the room.

Rafe was still lying, immobile. He looked pale, and Arthur thought with a sickening wrench, innocent. The Point Man leaned over.

"I know what you did," he whispered. "And so do you. And soon, so will everybody else."

He turned, and left, knowing he would never return.

* * *

"So, pasta is ok?"

Arthur looked at Ariadne, and smiled. Two months of dating, and she still double checked everything. He found it sweet, and endearing. "Its great."

"What time did Eames say he and Fran will be over?" She asked as she began hauling pans out of the cupboards of Arthur's apartment. The psychiatrist was in town for a conference, and upon hearing of this, the Point Man saw no harm in extending a friendly invitation. He suspected her and Eames' relationship was falling back into friendship, but they would always be close. "About eight. Cobb said he'd be over a little before."

"Sounds great," She called back. As Ariadne continued to wrestle with the pots, Arthur pulled a brown A4 enveloped out from his mail stack. As he flipped it over, he recognised the handwriting. Slitting it open, he pulled out a newspaper clipping, and a letter. He read the letter first.

_Arthur,_

_Thought you might want to see this! Fran x_

He unfolded the clipping, and looked at it, his eyes widening.

**Four bodies found at the bottom of Boynton Lake**

_Four bodies have been discovered, after an anonymous tip off. It is believe, through DNA testing, that the bodies belong to locals who went missing up to ten years ago. One has been identified as a young woman whose family was devastated by her disappearance, Chandra Caddick. _

_More disturbingly, DNA on Ms Caddick's body has been identified as that of her brother, Ryan, and another man who is currently in a comatose state, Rafe Lloyd. The other bodies are thought to be that of Mia Lloyd, Rafe's wife, and two men, unidentified at present. This will help clear the name of Michael Jensen, who was jailed for the alleged murder of Chandra Caddick, despite her body never being found._

Arthur folded the clipping. "We did it," he whispered. Pulling his die out of his pocket, he checked it was the correct weight. He went into the kitchen. "Ari!"

She turned. "What?" Silently, he handed her the clipping. As she read it, her eyes widened. "My God..." she whispered. "We solved the case. We found her, and now they have the evidence."

He nodded. "Yes." He rubbed his forehead. "Whats buried inside, eventually, it will surface." He stopped, and shuddered slightly, thinking of what he had to face about himself. But, as he looked into the Architect's deep brown eyes, he realised he could face it. Feeling a surge of happiness, he leaned forward, and kissed her.

**Finis. **

**Thank you for reading. Very much appreciated. x**


	88. Epilogue Six months later

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Mrs Caddick, are you sure about this?"

The woman nodded, her eyes red rimmed, but her features were uncompromising. "Yes, doctor. There is no point in keeping my son alive...if he can't think, or speak again."

The neurologist nodded, gravely. "I am sorry. We did everything we could. But brain injuries are a strange breed. If he did wake up..." he paused, and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Truly."

She nodded. "Thank you doctor." Leaning over, she kissed her son on his forehead, then turned to leave.

* * *

"You don't have to go in if you're unsure."

Arthur smiled, and turned to Ariadne. "Listen. Rafe Lloyd - and what he did - will stay with me forever unless I find out. Find out whether he's ever going to come out of the coma."

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "And that's why you brought the PASIV?"

He nodded. "Come prepared. Boy scout."

She shrugged. "Well, if you're sure."

Leaning over, he kissed her. "Thank you. Be half an hour, max."

He got out, holding himself erect as he walked up the stone steps. As he approached the receptionist, he smiled, producing a story about how he was Lloyd's cousin, been away on business. Could he see him? The receptionist nodded, and told him to head to Neuro-ICU.

As he approached, he stiffened. Vivid memories of what had happened in the psychopaths' head were filtering into his mind. His taunts. His cruelty. How he had tormented and threatened Ariadne and Cobb.

Swallowing, he pushed open the doors. Suddenly, he stood and blinked in shock.

Lloyd was sitting up in bed.

Arthur approached him. But, as he looked at the man, he realised that the man was not normal. His jaw swung down, with spittle running from it. His muscles, once hard and lean, were soft and shapeless. His eyes, Arthur noted, had the dull look of the aged.

Swallowing, he took a step forward.

"Hello Rafe," he said, softly. "Remember me?"

"I doubt it."

Arthur jumped. Turning round, he saw a nurse, male, standing against the doorway. He looked at Arthur, almost sypmathetically.

"Trust me, man, this guy doesn't recognise anybody. He can't speak, he can't recognise letters...he's a vegetable." The nurse shrugged. "I don't know how he came out of his coma, but his mind's gone."

Arthur looked at him. "You must have fallen over," he whispered, softly. "You must have tripped, fallen, hit yourself...given yourself a kick. But it doesn't matter. You're a living dead man."

The nurse frowned. "Hey, you a relative."

Arthur smiled. "His cousin."

"Wow." The nurse shrugged. "Thought he didn't have any family."

"Distant," Arthur said, quickly. "Still, you're clearly taking care of him."

The nurse frowned. "Wish we weren't. The guy is a murderer." He looked at Arthur. "Sorry. But, frankly, I wish somenoe had just switched him off." He checked his watch. "OK, Lloyd. Bath time!"

The other man howled like an animal as the nurse began to handle him. Arthur swallowed. Lloyd was buried inside himself - he'd aged to a point of beyond senility. He nodded as the nurse handled him into his bath chair.

* * *

As he walked down the hospital steps, he felt lighter, free. Smiling, he opened the car door, and sat next to Ariadne. "Hey."

"Hey," he said, leaning over and kissing her. "Let's go!"

"Arthur," she said, carefully, "what about..."

Arthur shook his head. "Buried inside," he told her. "For ever." He turned to her. "And the past is buried with him."

She kissed him again. "So, time to move on?"

The Point Man nodded. "Yes. For all of us."

He started the engine, and began to accelerate. Away from the hospital. Away from the past.


End file.
